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Of -the Bdhion Immortal of 

Uhe Famous Characters of History 

1,000 Sets ha-Ve been printed^ 

of ^hich this is Set 




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PORTRAIT, OUEEN ELIZABETH 



jFamous Cbaracters ot Ibtstor^ 

QUEEN 

ELIZABETH 

BY 
JACOB ABBOTT 

Volume XVL 
ILLUSTRATED 



1906 
THE ST. HUBERT GUILD 

NEW YORK 



Workshops : Akron, Ohio 



LJ8RARY of CONGRESS 

Two C«nies Received 

AUG 6 1906 

CI/ASS Ck^ XXc, No. 
COPY B. 



COPYRIGHT, 1906, 
BY 

Thk St. Hubert Guii,d 



PREFACE 



A FAR greater sovereign than woman was Eliza- 
beth of England. Inheriting grave defects of charac- 
ter, she developed commanding qualities of mind. 
Intriguing, lying, courting flattery, she carried on a 
series of amours while governing her land with rare 
sagacity, never allowing her chamber-maid's heart to 
influence her statesman's head. Ascending the throne 
at a time when the world was witnessing the begin- 
nings of a terrible convulsion she dexterously piloted 
her own realm past threatening disaster into a period 
of unexampled prosperity and splendor. Ignoring her 
faults, grievous as they were, England calls her its 
''Virgin Queen" and renders her homage as one of 
its greatest rulers. 



(ix) 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



Chapter Page 

I. ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 1 5 

II. THE CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 3 1 

III. LADY JANE GREY 46 

IV. THE SPANISH MATCH 66 

V. ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 8 1 

VI. ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 97 

VII. THE WAR IN SCOTLAND I I4 

VIII. ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 1 3© 

IX. PERSONAL CHARACTER 149 

X. THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 1 65 

XI. THE EARL OF ESSEX 1 85 

XII. THE CONCLUSION 208 



r») 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Q.UEEK Elizabeth 

Page 

PORTRAIT, Q TEN ELIZABETH .... FrOuUspiece 

PORTRAIT, SIR WALTER RALEIGH 1 36 

DESTRUCTION SPANISH ARMADA 1 83 



(xiii) 



O.UEEN ELIZABETH 



CHAPTER I. 

Elizabeth's Mother. 

Greenwich Observatory. — Manner of taking time.— Henry the Eighth.— His 
character. — His six wives.— Anne Boleyn.— {Catharine of Aragon. — 
Henry discards her. — Origin of the English church. — Henry marries 
Anne Boleyn. — Birth of Elizabeth.— Ceremony of christening.— Baptism 
of Elizabeth. — Grand procession.— Train-bearers. — The church.— The 
silver font. — The presents.— Name of the infant princess.— Elizabeth 
made Princess of Wales. — Matrimonial schemes. — Jane Seymour.— The 
tournament. — The king's suspicions. — Queen Anne arrested. — She is 
sent to the Tower. — Sufferings of the queen. — Her mental distress. — 
Examination of Anne. — Her letter to the king. — Anne's fellow-prison- 
ers. — They are executed. — Anne tried and condemned.— She protests her 
innocence. — Anne's execution. — Disposition of the body. — The king's 
brutality. — Elizabeth's forlorn condition. 

TRAVELERS, in Hscending the Thames by the steam- 
boat from Rotterdam, on their return from 
an excursion to the Rhine, have often their 
attention strongly attracted by what appears to be a 
splendid palace on the banks of the river at Green- 
wich. The edifice is not a palace, however, but a 
hospital, or rather, a retreat where the worn out, 

(15) 



i6 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1533 

maimed, and crippled veterans of the English navy 
spend the remnant of their days in comfort and peace, 
on pensions allowed them by the government in whose 
service they have spent their strength or lost their 
limbs. The magnificent buildings of the hospital stand 
on level land near the river. Behind them there is a 
beautiful park, which extends over the undulating and 
rising ground in the rear; and on the summit of one 
of the eminences there is the famous Greenwich Observ- 
atory, on the precision of whose quadrants and microm- 
eters depend those calculations by which the navi- 
gation of the world is guided. The most unconcerned 
and careless spectator is interested in the manner in 
which the ships which throng the river all the way 
from Greenwich to London, "take their time" from this 
observatory before setting sail for distant seas. From 
the top of a cupola surmounting the edifice, a slender 
pole ascends, with a black ball upon it, so constructed 
as to slide up and down for a few feet upon the pole. 
When the hour of 12 M. approaches, the ball slowly 
rises to within a few inches of the top, warning the 
ship-masters in the river to be ready with their 
chronometers, to observe and note the precise instant 
of its fall. When a few seconds only remain of the 
time, the ball ascends the remainder of the distance 
by a very deliberate motion, and then drops suddenly 
when the instant arrives. The ships depart on their 
several destinations, and for months afterward when 



1533] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 17 

thousands of miles away they depend for their safety 
in dark and stormy nights, and among dangerous reefs 
and rocky shores, on the nice approximation to correct- 
ness in the note of time which this descending ball 
had given them. 

This is Greenwich, as it exists at the present day. 
At the time when the events occurred which are to 
be related in this narrative, it was most known on ac- 
count of a royal palace which was situated there. 
This palace was the residence of the then queen con- 
sort of England. The king reigning at that time was 
Henry the Eighth. He was an unprincipled and cruel 
tyrant, and the chief business of his life seemed to be 
selecting and marrying new queens, making room for 
each succeeding one by discarding, divorcing, or be- 
heading her predecessor. There were six of them in 
all, and, with one exception, the history of each one 
is a distinct and separate, but dreadful tragedy. As 
there were so many of them, and they figured as queens, 
each for so short a period, they are commonly desig- 
nated in history by their personal family names, and 
even in these names there is a great similarity. There 
were three Catharines, two Annes, and a Jane. The 
only one who Hved and died in peace, respected and 
beloved to the end, was the Jane. 

Queen Elizabeth, the subject of this narrative, was 
the daughter of the second wife in this strange suc- 
cession, and her mother was one of the Annes. Her 

M. of H.— 16— 2 



i8 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1533 

name in full was Anne Boleyn. She was young and 
very beautiful, and Henry, to prepare the way for mak- 
ing her his wife, divorced his first queen, or rather 
declared his marrage with her null and void, because 
she had been, before he married her, the wife of his 
brother. Her name was Catharine of Aragon. She 
was, while connected with him, a faithful, true, and 
affectionate wife. She was a Catholic. The Catholic 
rules are very strict in respect to the marriage 
of relatives, and a special dispensation from the pope 
was necessary to authorize marriage in such a case as 
that of Henry and Catharine. This dispensation had, 
however, been obtained, and Catharine had, in reliance 
upon it, consented to become Henry's wife. When, 
however, she was no longer young and beautiful, and 
Henry had become enamored of Anne Boleyn, who 
was so, he discarded Catharine, and espoused the 
beautiful girl in her stead. He wished the pope to 
annul his dispensation, which would, of course, annul 
the marriage; and because the pontiff refused, and all 
the efforts of Henry's government were unavailing to 
move him, he abandoned the Catholic faith, and estab- 
lished an independent Protestant Church in England, 
whose supreme authority would annul the marriage. 
Thus, in a great measure, came the Reformation in 
England. The Catholics reproach us, and, it must be 
confessed, with some justice, with the ignominiousness 
of its origin. 



1533] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 19 

The course which things thus took created a great 
deal of delay in the formal annulling of the marriage 
with Catharine, which Henry was too impatient and 
imperious to bear. He would not wait for the decree 
of divorce, but took Anne Boleyn for his wife before 
his previous connection was made void. He said he 
was privately married to her. This he had, as he 
maintained, a right to do, for he considered his first 
marriage as void, absolutely and of itself, without any 
decree. When, at length, the decree was finally 
passed, he brought Anne Boleyn forward as his queen, 
and introduced her as such to England and to the 
world by a genuine marriage and a most magnificent 
coronation. The people of England pitied, poor Cath- 
arine, but they joined very cordially, notwithstanding, 
in welcoming the youthful and beautiful lady who 
was to take her place. All London gave itself up to 
festivities and rejoicings on the occasion of these 
nuptials. Immediately after this the young queen re- 
tired to her palace in Greenwich, and in two or three 
months afterward little Elizabeth was born. Her 
birth-day was the 7th of September, 1533. 

The mother may have loved the babe, but Henry 
himself was sadly disappointed that his child was 
not a son. Notwithstanding her sex, however, she 
was a personage of great distinction from her very 
birth, as all the realm looked upon her as heir to the 
crown. Henry was himself, at this time, very fond 



20 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1533 

of Anne Boleyn, though his feelings afterward were 
entirely changed. He determined on giving to the 
infant a very splendid christening. The usage in the 
Church of England is to make the christening of a 
child not merely a solemn religious ceremony, but a 
great festive occasion of congratulations and re- 
joicing. The unconscious subject of the ceremony is 
taken to the church. Certain near and distinguished 
friends, gentlemen and ladies, appear as godfathers 
and godmothers, as they are termed, to the child. 
They, in the ceremony, are considered as presenting 
the infant for consecration to Christ, and as becoming 
responsible for its future initiation into the Christian 
faith. They are hence sometimes called sponsors. 
These sponsors are supposed to take, from the time 
of the baptism forward, a strong interest in all that 
pertains to the welfare of their little charge, and they 
usually manifest this interest by presents on the day 
of the christening. There things are all conducted 
with considerable ceremony and parade in ordinary 
cases, occurring in private life; and when a princess 
is to be baptized, all, even the most minute details of 
the ceremony, assume a great importance, and the 
whole scene becomes one of great pomp and splen- 
dor. 

The babe, in this case, was conveyed to the 
church in a grand procession. The mayor and other 
civic authorities in London came down to Greenwich 



1533] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 21 

in barges, tastefully ornamented, to join in the cere- 
mony. The lords and ladies of King Henry's court 
were also there, in attendance at the palace. When 
all were assembled, and everything was ready, the 
procession moved from the palace to the church with 
great pomp. The road, all the way, was carpeted 
with green rushes, spread upon the ground. Over 
this road the little infant was borne by one of her 
godmothers. She was wrapped in a mantle of pur- 
ple velvet, with a long train appended to it, which 
was trimmed with ermine, a very costly kind of fur, 
used in England as a badge of authority. This train 
was borne by lords and ladies of high rank, who 
were appointed for the purpose by the king, and 
who deemed their office a very distinguished honor. 
Besides these train-bearers, there were four lords, who 
walked two on each side of the child, and who held 
over her a magnificent canopy. Other personages of 
high rank and station followed, bearing various in- 
signia and emblems^ such as by the ancient customs 
of England are employed on these occasions, and all 
dressed sumptuously in gorgeous robes, and wearing 
the badges and decorations pertaining to their rank 
or the offices they held. Vast crowds of spectators 
lined the way, and gazed upon the scene. 

On arriving at the church, they found the interior 
splendidly decorated for the occasion. Its walls were 
lined throughout with tapestry, and in the center was 



22 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1533 

a crimson canopy, under which was placed a large 
silver font, containing the water with which the child 
was to be baptized. The ceremony was performed 
by Cranmer, the archbishop of Canterbury, which is 
the office of the highest dignitary of the English 
Church. After it was performed, the procession re- 
turned as it came, only now there was an addition 
of four persons of high rank, who followed the child 
with the presents intended for her by the godfathers 
and godmothers. These presents consisted of cups 
and bowls, of beautiful workmanship, some of silver 
gilt, and some of solid gold. They were very costly, 
though not prized much yet by the unconscious in- 
fant for whom they were intended. She went and 
came, in the midst of this gay and joyous proces- 
sion, httle imagining into what a restless and unsat- 
isfying life all this pageantry and splendor were 
ushering her. 

They named the child EHzabeth, from her grand- 
mother. There have been many queens of that name, 
but Queen Elizabeth of England became so much 
more distinguished than any other, that that name 
alone has become her usual designation. Her family 
name was Tudor. As she was never married, — for, 
though her life was one perpetual scene of matri- 
monial schemes and negotiations, she lived and died 
a maiden lady, — she has been sometimes called the 
Virgin Queen^ and one of the states of this Union, 



T536] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 23 

Virginia, receives its name from this designation of 
Elizabeth. She is also often familiarly called Queen Bess. 
Making little Elizabeth presents of gold and silver 
plate, and arranging splendid pageants for her, were 
not the only plans for her aggrandizement which 
were formed during the period of her infantile un- 
consciousness. The king, her father, first had an act 
of Parliament passed, solemnly recognizing and con- 
firming her claim as heir to the crown, and the title 
of Princess of Wales was formally conferred upon 
her. When these things were done, Henry began 
to consider how he could best promote his own po- 
litical schemes by forming an engagement of mar- 
riage for her, and when she was only about two 
years of age, he offered her to the King of France as 
the future wife of one of his sons, on certain condi- 
tions of political service which he wished him to 
perform. But the King of France would not accede 
to the terms, and so this plan was abandoned. Eliz- 
abeth was, however, notwithstanding this failure, an 
object of universal interest and attention, as the 
daughter of a very powerful monarch, and the heir 
to his crown. Her life opened with very bright and 
serene prospects of future greatness; but all these 
prospects were soon apparently cut off by a very 
heavy cloud which arose to darken her sky. This 
cloud was the sudden and dreadful fall and ruin of 
her mother. 



24 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1536 

Queen Anne Boleyn was originally a maid of 
honor to Queen Catharine, and became acquainted 
with King Henry and gained his affections while she 
was acting in that capacity. When she became 
queen herself, she had, of course, her own maids of 
honor, and among them was one named Jane Sey- 
mour. Jane was a beautiful and accomplished lady, 
and in the end she supplanted her mistress and queen 
in Henry's affections, just as Anne herself had sup- 
planted Catharine. The king had removed Catharine 
to make way for Anne, by annulling his marriage 
with her on account of their relationship ; what way 
could he contrive now to remove Anne, so as to 
make way for Jane? 

He began to entertain, or to pretend to entertain, 
feelings of jealousy and suspicion that Anne was un- 
faithful to him. One day, at a sort of tournament in 
the park of the royal palace at Greenwich, when a 
great crowd of gayly-dressed ladies and gentlemen 
were assembled to witness the spectacle, the queen 
dropped her handkerchief. A gentleman whom the 
king had suspected of being one of her favorites 
picked it up. He did not immediately restore it to 
her. There was, besides, something in the air and 
manner of the gentleman, and in the attendant cir- 
cumstances of the case, which the king's mind seized 
upon as evidence of criminal gallantry between the 
parties. He was, or at least pretended to be, in a 



1536] ELIZABETH^S MOTHER 25 

great rage. He left the field immediately and went 
to London. The tournament was broken up in con- 
fusion, the queen was seized by the king's orders, 
conveyed to her palace in Greenwich, and shut up in 
her chamber, with a lady who had always been her 
rival and enemy to guard her. She was in great con- 
sternation and sorrow, but she declared most sol- 
emnly that she was innocent of any crime, and had 
always been true and faithful to the king. 

The next day she was taken from her palace at 
Greenwich up the river, probably in a barge well 
guarded by armed men, to the Tower of London. 
The Tower is an ancient and very extensive castle, 
consisting of a great number of buildings inclosed 
within a high wall. It is in the lower part of Lon- 
don, on the bank of the Thames, with a flight of 
stairs leading down to the river from a great postern 
gate. The unhappy queen was landed at these stairs 
and conveyed into the castle, and shut up in a gloomy 
apartment, with walls of stone and windows barri- 
caded with strong bars of iron. There were four or 
five gentlemen, attendants upon the queen in her pal- 
ace at Greenwich, whom the king suspected, or pre- 
tended to suspect, of being her accomplices in crime, 
that were arrested at the same time with her and 
closely confined. 

When the poor queen was introduced into her 
dungeon, she fell on her knees, and, in an agony of 



26 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1536 

terror and despair, she implored God to help her in this 
hour of her extremity, and most solemnly called Him 
to witness that she was innocent of the crime imputed 
to her charge. Seeking thus a refuge in God calmed 
and composed her in some small degree; but when, 
again, thoughts of the imperious and implacable tem- 
per of her husband came over her, of the impetuous- 
ness of his passions, of the certainty that he wished 
her removed out of the way in order that room might 
be made for her rival, and then, when her distracted 
mind turned to the forlorn and helpless condition of 
her little daughter Elizabeth, now scarcely three years 
old, her fortitude and self-possession forsook her en- 
tirely; she sank half insane upon her bed, in long and 
uncontrollable paroxysms of sobs and tears, alternating 
with still more uncontrollable and frightful bursts of 
hysterical laughter. 

The king sent a commission to take her examina-- 
tion. At the same time, he urged her, by the persons 
whom he sent, to confess her guilt, promising her 
that, if she did so, her life should be spared. She, 
however, protested her innocence with the utmost 
firmness and constancy. She begged earnestly to be 
allowed to see the king, and, when this was refused, 
she wrote a letter to him, which still remains, and 
which expresses very strongly the acuteness of her 
mental sufferings. 

In this letter, she said that she was so distressed 



1536] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 27 

and bewildered by the king's displeasure and her im- 
prisonment, that she hardly knew what to think or 
to say. She assured him that she had always been 
faithful and true to him, and begged that he would 
not cast an indelible stain upon her own fair fame 
and that of her innocent and helpless child by such 
unjust and groundless imputations. She begged him 
to let her have a fair trial by impartial persons, who 
would weigh the evidence against her in a just and 
equitable manner. She was sure that by this course 
her innocence would be established, and he himself, 
and all mankind, would see that she had been most 
unjustly accused. 

But if, on the other hand, she added, the king 
had determined on her destruction, in order to re- 
move an obstacle in the way of his possession of a 
new object of love, she prayed that God would for- 
give him and all her enemies for so great a sin, and 
not call him to account for it at the last day. She 
urged him, at all events, to spare the lives of the 
four gentlemen who had been accused, as she assured 
him they were wholly innocent of the crime laid to 
their charge, begging him, if he had ever loved the 
name of Anne Boleyn, to grant this her last request. 
She signed her letter his "most loyal and ever faith- 
ful wife," and dated it from her ''doleful prison in 
the Tower." 

The four gentlemen were promised that their lives 



28 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1536 

should be spared if they would confess their guilt. 
One of them did, accordingly, admit his guilt, and 
the others persisted to the end in firmly denying it. 
They who think Anne Boleyn was innocent, suppose 
that the one who confessed did it as the most likely 
mode of averting destruction, as men have often been 
known, under the influence of fear, to confess crimes 
of which it was afterward proved they could not 
have been guilty. If this was his motive, it was of 
no avail. The four persons accused, after a very in- 
formal trial, in which nothing was really proved 
against them, were condemned, apparently to please 
the king, and were executed together. 

Three days after this the queen herself was brought 
to trial before the peers. The number of peers of 
the realm in England at this time was fifty-three. 
Only twenty-six were present at the trial. The king 
is charged with making such arrangements as to pre- 
vent the attendance of those who would be unwill- 
ing to pass sentence of condemnation. At any rate, 
those who did attend professed to be satisfied of the 
guilt of the accused, and they sentenced her to be 
burned, or to be beheaded, at the pleasure of the 
king. He decided that she should be beheaded. 

The execution was to take place in a little green 
area within the Tower. The platform was erected 
here, and the block placed upon it, the whole being 
covered with a black cloth, as usual on such occa- 



1536] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 29 

sions. On the morning of the fatal day, Anne sent 
for the constable of the Tower to come in and re- 
ceive her dying protestations that she was innocent 
of the crimes alleged against her. She told him that 
she understood that she was not to die until 12 
o'clock, and that she was sorry for it, for she wished 
to have it over. The constable told her the pain 
would be very slight and momentary. "Yes," she 
rejoined, ** I am told that a very skillful executioner 
is provided, and my neck is very slender." 

At the appointed hour she was led out into the 
court-yard where the execution was to take place. 
There were about twenty persons present, all officers of 
state or of the city of London. The bodily suffering at- 
tendant upon the execution was very soon over, for the 
slender neck was severed at a single blow, and prob- 
ably all sensibility to pain immediately ceased. Still, 
the lips and the eyes were observed to move and 
quiver for a few seconds after the separation of the 
head from the body. It was a relief, however, to the 
spectators when this strange and unnatural prolonga- 
tion of the mysterious functions of life came to an end. 

No coffin had been provided. They found, how- 
ever, an old wooden chest, made to contain arrows, 
lying in one of the apartments of the tower, which 
they used instead. They first laid the decapitated 
trunk within it, and then adjusted the dissevered head 
to its place, as if vainly attempting to repair the ir- 



30 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1536 

retrievable injury they had done. They hurried the 
body, thus enshrined, to its burial in a chapel, which 
was also within the tower, doing all with such dis- 
patch that the whole was finished before the clock 
struck twelve; and the next day the unfeeling mon- 
ster who was the author of this dreadful deed was 
publicly married to his new favorite, Jane Seymour. 

The king had not merely procured Anne's personal 
condemnation ; he had also obtained a decree annul- 
ling his marriage with her, on the ground of her having 
been, as he attempted to prove, previously affianced 
to another man. This was, obviously, a mere pre- 
tense. The object was to cut off EHzabeth's rights 
to inherit the crown, by making his marriage with 
her mother void. Thus was the little princess left 
motherless and friendless when only three years old. 




CHAPTER II. 
The Childhood of a Princess. 

Elizabeth's condition at the death of her mother. — Her residence. — Inciter 
of I<ady Bryan, Elizabeth's governess. — Conclusion of letter. — Troubles 
and trials of infancy. — Birth of Edward. — The king reconciled to his 
daughters. — Death of King Henry. — His children. — King Henry's vio- 
lence. — The order of succession. — Elizabeth's troubles. — The two Sey- 
mours. — The queen dowager's marriage. — The Seymours quarrel. — 
Somerset's power and influence. — Jealousies and quarrels. — Mary Queen 
of Scots. — Marriage schemes. — Seymour's promotion. — Jane Grey. — 
Family quarrels. — Death of the queen dowager. — Seymour's schemes. — 
Seymour's arrest. — His trial and attainder. — Seymour beheaded. — 
Elizabeth's trial's.— Elizabeth's firmness.— I<ady Tyrwhitt.— Elizabeth's 
sufferings. — Her fidelity to her friends. 

ELIZABETH was about three years old at the death 
of her mother. She was a princess, but she 
was left in a very forlorn and desolate con- 
dition. She was not, however, entirely abandoned. 
Her claims to inherit the crown had been set aside, 
but then she was, as all admitted, the daughter of the 
king, and she must, of course, be the object of a cer- 
tain degree of consideration and ceremony. It would 
be entirely inconsistent with the notions of royal dig- 
nity which then prevailed to have her treated like an 
ordinary child. 

She had a residence assigned her at a place called 
Hunsdon, and was put under the charge of a govern- 

(31) 



32 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1536 

ess whose name was Lady Bryan. There is an ancient 
letter from Lady Bryan, still extant, which was writ- 
ten to one of the king's officers about Elizabeth, ex- 
plaining her destitute condition, and asking for a more 
suitable supply for her wants. It may entertain the 
reader to see this relic, which not only illustrates our 
little heroine's condition, but also shows how great 
the changes are which our language has undergone 
within the last three hundred years. The letter, as 
here given, is abridged a little from the original: 

My Lord: 

When your Lordship was last here, it pleased you to say that I 
should not be mistrustful of the King's Grace, nor of your Lordship, 
which word was of great comfort to me, and emboldeneth me now 
to speak my poor mind. 

Now so it is, my Lord, that my Lady Elizabeth is put from the 
degree she was afore, and what degree she is at now * I know not 
but by hearsay. Therefore I know not how to order her, nor myself, 
nor none of hers that I have the rule of — that is, her women and her 
grooms. But I beseech you to be good, my Lord, to her and to all 
hers, and to let her have some rayment; for she has neither gown, 
nor kirtle, nor no manner of linen, nor foresmocks, nor kerchiefs, nor 
sleeves, nor rails, nor bodystitchets, nor mufflers, nor biggins. All 
these her Grace's wants I have driven off as long as I can, by my 
troth, but I can not any longer. Beseeching you, my Lord, that you 
will see that her Grace may have that is needful for her, and that I 
may know from you, in writing, how I shall order myself towards her, 
and whatever is the King's Grace's pleasure and yours, in every thing 
that I shall do. 

My Lord Mr. Shelton would have my Lady Elizabeth to dine and 
sup at the board of estate. Alas, my Lord, it is not meet for a child 



♦That is, in what light the king and the government wish to 
have her regarded, and how they wish her to be treated. 



1536] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS ^3 

of her age to keep such rule yet, I promise you, my Lord, I dare not 
take upon me to keep her in health and she keep that rule; for there 
she shall see divers meats, and fruits, and wines, which would be hard 
for me to restrain her Grace from it. You know, my Lord, there is 
no place of correction * there, and she is yet too young to correct 
greatly. I know well, and she be there, I shall never bring her up 
to the King's Grace's honor nor hers, nor to her health, nor my poor 
honesty. Wherefore, I beseech you, my Lord, that my Lady may 
have a mess of meat to ht own lodging, with a good dish or two that 
is meet for her Grace to eat of. 

My Lady hath likewise great pain with her teeth, and they come 
very slowly forth, and this causeth me to suffer her Grace to have her 
will more than I would. I trust to God, and her teeth were well 
graft, to have her Grace after another fashion than she is yet, so as I 
trust the King's Grace shall have great comfort in her Grace, for she 
is as toward a child, and as gentle of conditions, as ever I knew any 
in my life. Jesu preserve her Grace. 

Good my Lord, have my Lady's Grace, and us that be her poor 
servants in your remembrance. 

This letter evinces that strange, mixture of state and 
splendor with discomfort and destitution, which pre- 
vailed very extensively in royal households in those 
early times. A part of the privation which Elizabeth 
seems, from this letter, to have endured, was doubt- 
less owing to the rough manners of the day; but 
there is no doubt that she was also, at least for a time, 
in a neglected and forsaken condition. The new queen, 
Jane Seymour, who succeeded Elizabeth's mother, had 
a son a year or two after her marriage. He was named 
Edward. Thus Henry had three children, Mary, Eliza- 
beth, and Edward, each one the child of a different 



• That is, opportunity for correction. 
M. oJ H.— 16— 3 



34 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1547 

wife ; and the last of them, the son, appears to 
have monopolized, for a time, the king's affection and 
care. 

Still, the hostility which the king had felt for these 
queens in succession was owing, as has been already 
said, to his desire to remove them out of his way, 
that he might be at liberty to marry again; and so, 
after the mothers were, one after another, removed, 
the hostility itself, so far as the children were con- 
cerned, gradually subsided, and the king began to look 
both upon Mary and Elizabeth with favor again. He 
even formed plans for marrying Elizabeth to persons 
of distinction in foreign countries, and he entered 
into some negotiations for this purpose. He had a 
decree passed, too, at last, reversing the sentence by 
which the two princesses were cut off from an inher- 
itance of the crown. Thus they were restored, during 
their father's life, to their proper rank as royal 
princesses. 

At last the king died in 1547, leaving only these 
three children, each one the child of a different wife. 
Mary was a maiden lady, of about thirty-one years of 
age. She was a stern, austere, hard-hearted woman, 
whom nobody loved. She was the daughter of King 
Henry's first wife, Catharine of Aragon, and, like her 
mother, was a decided Catholic. 

Next came Elizabeth, who was about fourteen 
years of age. She was the daughter of the king's 



1547] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 3s 

second wife, Queen Anne Boleyn. She had been ed- 
ucated a Protestant. She was not pretty, but was a 
very lively and sprightly child, altogether different 
in her cast of character and in her manners from her 
sister Mary. 

Then, lastly, there was Edward, tfie son of Jane 
Seymour, the third queen. He was about nine years 
of age at his father's death. He was a boy of good 
character, mild and gentle in his disposition, fond of 
study and reflection, and a general favorite with all 
who knew him. 

It was considered in those days that a king might, 
in some sense, dispose of his crown by will, just as, 
at the present time, a man may bequeath his house 
or his farm. Of course, there were some limits to 
this power, and the concurrence of Parliament seems 
to have been required to the complete validity of 
such a settlement. King Henry the Eighth, however, 
had little difficulty in carrying any law through Par- 
liament which he desired to have enacted. It is said 
that, on one occasion, when there was some delay 
about passing a bill of his, he sent for one of the 
most influential of the members of the House of Com- 
mons to come into his presence. The member came 
and kneeled before him. *'Ho, man!" said the king, 
"and will they not suffer my bill to pass?" He then 
came up and put his hand upon the kneeling legisla- 
tor's head, and added, "Get my bill passed to-morrow, 



26 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1547 

or else by to-morrow this head of yours shall be off." 
The next day the bill was passed accordingly. 

King Henry, before he died, arranged the order of 
succession to the throne as follows: Edward was to 
succeed him; but, as he was a minor, being then 
only nine years of age, a great council of state; con- 
sisting of sixteen persons of the highest rank, was 
appointed to govern the kingdom in his name until 
he should be eighteen years of age, when he was to 
become king in reality as well as in name. In case 
he should die without heirs, then Mary, his oldest 
sister, was to succeed him; and if she died without 
heirs, then Elizabeth was to succeed her. This ar- 
rangement went into full effect. The council gov- 
erned the kingdom in Edward's name until he was 
sixteen years of age, when he died. Then Mary fol- 
lowed, and reigned as queen five years longer, and 
died without children, and during all this time Eliz- 
abeth held the rank of a princess, exposed to a thou- 
sand difficulties and dangers from the plots, intrigues, 
and conspiracies of those about her, in which, on 
account of her peculiar position and prospects, she 
was necessarily involved. 

One of the worst of these cases occurred soon after 
her father's death. There were two brothers of Jane 
Seymour, who were high in King Henry's favor at 
the time of his decease. The oldest is known in 
history by his title of the Earl of Hertford at first, and 



1547] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 37 

afterward by that of Duke of Somerset. The youngest 
was called Sir Thomas Seymour. They were both 
made members of the government which was to ad- 
minister the affairs of state during young Edward's 
minority. They were not, however, satisfied with any 
moderate degree of power. Being brothers of Jane 
Seymour, who was Edward's mother, they were his 
uncles, of course, and the oldest one soon succeeded 
in causing himself to be appointed protector. By this 
office he was, in fact, king, all except in name. 

The younger brother, who was an agreeable and 
accomphshed man, paid his addresses to the queen 
dowager, that is, to the widow whom King Henry 
left, for the last of his wives was living at the time of 
his death. She consented to marry him, and the mar- 
riage took place almost immediately after the king's 
death — so soon in fact, that it was considered ex- 
tremely hasty and unbecoming. This queen dowager 
had two houses left to her, one at Chelsea, and the other 
at Hanworth, towns some little distance up the river 
from London. Here she resided with her new husband, 
sometimes at one of the houses, and sometimes at 
the other. The king had also directed, in his will, 
that the Princess Elizabeth should be under her care, 
so that Elizabeth, immediately after her father's death, 
lived at one or the other of these two houses under 
the care of Seymour, who, from having been her 
uncle, became now, in some sense, her father. He 



38 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1547 

was a sort of uncle, for he was the brother of one of 
her father's wives. He was a sort of father, for he 
was the husband of another of them. Yet, really, by 
blood, there was no relation between them. 

The two brothers, Somerset and Seymour, quar- 
reled. Each was very ambitious, and very jealous of 
the other. Somerset, in addition to being appointed 
protector by the council, got a grant of power from 
the young king, called a patent. This commission was 
executed with great formality, and was sealed with 
the great seal of state, and it made Somerset, in some 
measure, independent of the other nobles whom King 
Henry had associated with him in the government. 
By this patent he was placed in supreme command 
of all the forces by land and sea. He had a seat on 
the right hand of the throne, under the great canopy 
of state, and whenever he went abroad on public oc- 
casions, he assumed all the pomp and parade which 
would have been expected in a real king. Young 
Edward was wholly under his influence, and did 
always whatever Somerset recommended him to do. 
Seymour was very jealous of all this greatness, and 
was contriving every means in his power to circum- 
vent and supersede his brother. 

The wives, too, of these great statesmen quarreled. 
The Duchess of Somerset thought she was entitled to 
the precedence, because she was the wife of the pro- 
tector, who, being a kind of regent, she thought he 



1547] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 39 

was entitled to have his wife considered as a sort of 
queen. The wife of Seymour, on the other hand, 
contended that she was entitled to the precedence as 
a real queen, having been herself the actual consort 
of a reigning monarch. The two ladies disputed per- 
petually on this point, which, of course, could never 
be settled. They enlisted, however, on their re- 
spective sides various partisans, producing a great deal 
of jealousy and ill will, and increasing the animosity 
of their husbands. 

All this time the celebrated Mary Queen of Scots 
was an infant in Janet Sinclair's arms, at the castle of 
Stirling, in Scotland. King Henry, during his life, had 
made a treaty with the government of Scotland, by 
which it was agreed that Mary should be married to 
his son Edward as soon as the two children should 
have grown to maturity; but afterward, the govern- 
ment of Scotland having fallen from Protestant into 
Catholic hands, they determined that this match must 
be given up. The English authorities were very much 
incensed. They wished to have the marriage take 
effect, as it would end in uniting the Scotch and 
English kingdoms; and the protector, when a time 
arrived which he thought was favorable for his pur- 
pose, raised an army and marched northward to make 
war upon Scotland, and compel the Scots to fulfill 
the contract of marriage. 

While his brother was gone to the northward, 



40 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1547 

Seymour remained at home, and endeavored, by every 
means within his reach, to strengthen his own influ- 
ence and increase his power. He contrived to ob- 
tain from the council of government the office of 
lord high admiral, which gave him the command of 
the fleet, and made him, next to his brother, the most 
powerful and important personage in the realm. He 
had, besides, as has already been stated, the custody 
and care of Elizabeth, who lived in his house; though, 
as he was a profligate and unprincipled man, this po- 
sition for the princess, now fast growing up to wom- 
anhood, was considered by many persons as of 
doubtful propriety. Still, she was at present only four- 
teen years old. There was another young lady like- 
wise in his family, a niece of King Henry, and, of 
course, a second cousin of Elizabeth. Her name was 
Jane Grey. It was a very unhappy family. The man- 
ners and habits of all the members of it, excepting 
Jane Grey, seem to have been very rude and irregu- 
lar. The admiral quarreled with his wife, and was 
jealous of the very servants who waited upon her. 
The queen observed something in the manners of 
her husband toward the young princess which made 
her angry both with him and her. Elizabeth resented 
this, and a violent quarrel ensued, which ended in 
their separation. Elizabeth went away, and resided 
afterward at a place called Hatfield. 

Very soon after this, the queen dowager died sud- 



1548] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 41 

denly. People accused Seymour, her husband, of hav- 
ing poisoned her, in order to make way for the Prin- 
cess Elizabeth to be his wife. He denied this, but 
he immediately began to lay his plans for securing 
the hand of Elizabeth. There was a probability that 
she might, at some future time, succeed to the crown, 
and then, if he were her husband, he thought he 
should be the real sovereign, reigning in her name. 

EHzabeth had in her household two persons, a 
certain Mrs. Ashley, who was then her governess, 
and a man named Parry, who was a sort of treas- 
urer. He was called the cofferer. The admiral 
gained these persons over to his interests, and, through 
them, attempted to open communications with Eliza- 
beth, and persuade her to enter into his designs. Of 
course, the whole affair was managed with great se- 
crecy. They were all Hable to a charge of treason 
against the government of Edward by such plots, as 
his ministers and counselors might maintain that 
their design was to overthrow Edward's government 
and make Elizabeth queen. They, therefore, were all 
banded together to keep their councils secret, and 
Elizabeth was drawn, in some degree, into the 
scheme, though precisely how far was never fully 
known. It was supposed that she began to love 
Seymour, although he was very much older than her- 
self, and to be willing to become his wife. It is not 
surprising that, neglected and forsaken as she had 



42 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1548 

been, she should have been inclined to regard with 
favor an agreeable and influential man, who expressed 
a strong affection for her, and a warm interest in 
her welfare. 

However this may be, Elizabeth was one day 
struck with consternation at hearing that Seymour 
was arrested by order of his brother, who had re- 
turned from Scotland and had received information of 
his designs, and that he had been committed to the 
Tower. He had a hurried and irregular trial, or what, 
in those days, was called a trial. The council went 
themselves to the Tower, and had him brought be- 
fore them and examined. He demanded to have the 
charges made out in form, and the witnesses con- 
fronted with him, but the council were satisfied of 
his guilt without these formalities; The Parliament 
immediately afterward passed a bill of attainder against 
him, by which he was sentenced to death. His 
brother, the protector, signed the warrant for his ex- 
ecution, and he was beheaded on Tower Hill. 

The protector sent two messengers in the course 
of this affair to Elizabeth, to see what they could 
ascertain from her about it. Sir Robert Tyrwhitt was 
the name of the principal one of these messengers. 
When the cofferer learned that they were at the gate, 
he went in great terror into his chamber, and said 
that he was undone. At the same time, he pulled off 
a chain from his neck, and the rings from his fingers, 



1548] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 43 

and threw them away from him with gesticulations 
of despair. The messengers then came to Ehzabeth, 
and told her, falsely as it seems, with a view to 
frighten her into confessions, that Mrs. Ashley and 
the cofferer were both secured and sent to the Tower. 
She seemed very much alarmed; she wept bitterly, 
and it was a long time before she regained her com- 
posure. She wanted to know whether they had con- 
fessed any thing. The protector's messengers would 
not tell her this, but they urged her to confess her- 
self all that had occurred; for, whatever it was, they 
said, that the evil and shame would all be ascribed 
to the other persons concerned, and not to her, on 
account of her youth and inexperience. But Ehzabeth 
would confess nothing. The messengers went away, 
convinced, as they said, that she was guilty; they 
could see that in her countenance; and that her si- 
lence was owing to her firm determination not to be- 
tray her lover. They sent word to the protector that 
they did not believe that any body would succeed in 
drawing the least information from her, unless it was 
the protector, or young King Edward himself. 

These mysterious circumstances produced a some- 
what unfavorable impression in regard to Elizabeth, 
and there were some instances, it was said, of light 
and trifling behavior between Elizabeth and Seymour, 
while she was in his house during the life-time of 
his wife. They took place in the presence of Sey- 



44 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1548 

mour's wife, and seem of no consequence, except to 
show that dukes and princesses got into frolics some- 
times in those days as well as other mortals. People 
censured Mrs. Ashley for not enjoining a greater dig- 
nity and propriety of demeanor in her young charge, 
and the government removed her from her place. 

Lady Tyrwhitt, who was the wife of the messenger 
referred to above that was sent to examine Elizabeth, 
was appointed to succeed Mrs. Ashley. Elizabeth was 
very much displeased at this change. She told Lady 
Tyrwhitt that Mrs. Ashley was her mistress, and that 
she had not done any thing to make it necessary for 
the council to put more mistresses over her. Sir 
Robert wrote to the protector that she took the affair 
so heavily that she **wept all night, and lowered all 
the next day." He said that her attachment to Mrs. 
Ashley was very strong; and that, if any thing were 
said against the lord admiral, she could not bear to 
hear it, but took up his defense in the most prompt 
and eager manner. 

How far it is true that Elizabeth loved the unfor- 
tunate Seymour can now never be known. There is 
no doubt, however, but that this whole affair was a 
very severe trial and affliction to her. It came upon 
her when she was but fourteen or fifteen years of age, 
and when she was in a position, as well of an age, 
which renders the heart acutely sensitive both to the 
effect of kindness and of injuries. Seymour, by his 



1548] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 45 

death, was lost to her forever, and Elizabeth lived in 
great retirement and seclusion during the remainder 
of her brother's reign. She did not, however, forget 
Mrs. Ashley and Parry. On her accession to the 
throne, many years afterward, she gave them offices 
very valuable, considering their station in life, and 
was a true friend to them both to the end of their 
days. 




( 



CHAPTER III. 

Lady Jane Grey. 

I^ady Jane Grey.— Her disposition and character.— I,ady Jane's parents.— Re- 
straints put upon her. — I^ady Jane's attainments.— Character of her 
teacher. — Anecdote of Elizabeth and Aylmer. — I<ady Jane's attachment 
to Aylmer. — Elizabeth's studies.— Roger Ascham. — I^ady Jane's acquire- 
ments in Greek.— Her interview with Ascham. — I^ady Jane's intimacy 
with Edward. — The Earl of Northumberland.- Harsh treatment of 
Mary.— Decline of Edward's health.— Uncertainty in regard to the suc- 
cession. — Struggle for power. — Queen Elizabeth's family connections. — 
Explanation of the table.— King Henry's will.— Various claimants for 
the throne. — Perplexing questions. — Power of Northumberland. — His 
schemes. — Marriage of I^ady Jane.— Feelings of the people.— Efforts 
to set Mary aside. — Northumberland works on the young king. — 
Conduct of the judges. — Pardon by anticipation. — Edward's deed of 
settlement. — Plan to entrap the princesses. — Death of Edward. — Es- 
cape of the princesses. — Precautions of Mary. — Lady Jane proclaimed 
queen. — Great excitement. — Public opinion in favor of Mary. — North- 
umberland taken prisoner. — He is beheaded.— Mary's triumphal pro- 
cession. — Shared by Elizabeth. 

AMONG Elizabeth's companions and playmates in 
her early years was a young lady, her cousin, as 
she was often called, though she was really the 
daughter of her cousin, named Jane Grey, commonly 
called in history Lady Jane Grey. Her mother was the 
Marchioness of Dorset, and was the daughter of one 
of King Henry the Eighth's sisters. King Henry had 
named her as the next in the order of succession 
after his own children, that is, after Edward his son, 
(46) 



1550] LADY JANE GREY 47 

and Mary and Elizabeth his two daughters; and, con- 
sequently, though she was very young, yet, as she 
might one day be queen of England, she was a per- 
sonage of considerable importance. She was, accord- 
ingly, kept near the court, and shared, in some re- 
spects, the education and the studies of the two prin- 
cesses. 

Lady Jane was about four years younger than the 
Princess Elizabeth, and the sweetness of her disposi- 
tion, united with an extraordinary intellectual superi- 
ority, which showed itself at a very early period, 
made her a universal favorite. Her father and mother, 
the Marquis and Marchioness of Dorset, lived at an 
estate they possessed, called Broadgate, in Leicester- 
shire, which is in the central part of England, although 
they took their title from the county of Dorset, which 
is on the southwestern coast. They were very proud 
of their daughter, and attached infinite importance to 
her descent from Henry VII., and to the possibility 
that she might one day succeed to the English throne. 
They were very strict and severe in their manners, 
and paid great attention to etiquette and punctilio, as 
persons who are ambitious of rising in the world are 
very apt to do. In all ages of the world, and among 
all nations, those who have long been accustomed to 
a high position are easy and unconstrained in their 
manners and demeanor, while those who have been 
newly advanced from a lower station, or who are 



48 QjQEEN ELIZABETH [15505 

anticipating or aspiring to such an advance, make them- 
selves slaves to the rules of etiquette and ceremony. 
It was thus that the father and mother of Lady Jane, 
anticipating that she might one day become a queen, 
watched and guarded her incessantly, subjected her 
to a thousand unwelcome restraints, and repressed 
all the spontaneous and natural gayety and sprightli- 
ness which belongs properly to such a child. 

She became, however, a very excellent scholar in 
consequence of this state of things. She had a pri- 
vate teacher, a m.an of great eminence for his learn- 
ing and abilities, and yet of a very kind and gentle 
spirit, which enabled him to gain a strong hold on 
his pupil's affection and regard. His name was John 
Aylmer.. The Marquis of Dorset, Lady Jane's father, 
became acquainted with Mr. Aylmer when he was 
quite young, and appointed him, when he had fin- 
ished his education, to come and reside in his family 
as chaplain and tutor to his children. Aylmer after- 
ward became a distinguished man, was made Bishop 
of London, and held many high offices of state under 
Queen Elizabeth, when she came to reign. He be- 
came very much attached to Queen Ehzabeth in the 
middle and latter part of his life, as he had been to 
Lady Jane in the early part of it. A curious incident 
occurred during the time that he was in the service 
of Elizabeth, which illustrates the character of the 
man. The queen was suffering from the toothache. 



1550] LADY JANE GREY 49 

and it was necessary that the tooth should be ex- 
tracted. The surgeon was ready with his instruments, 
and several ladies and gentlemen of the royal house- 
hold were in the queen's room commiserating her 
sufferings; but the queen dreaded the operation so 
excessively that she could not summon fortitude 
enough to submit to it. Aylmer, after trying some 
time in vain to encourage her, took his seat in the 
chair instead of her, and said to the surgeon, " I am 
an old man, and have but a few teeth to lose; but 
come, draw this one, and let her majesty see how 
light a matter it is." One would not have supposed 
that Elizabeth, would have allowed this to be done; but 
she did, and, finding that Aylmer made so light of the 
operation, she submitted to have it performed upon 
herself. 

But to return to Lady Jane. She was very strongly 
attached to her teacher, and made great progress in 
the studies which he arranged for her. Ladies of 
high rank, in those days, were accustomed to devote 
great attention to the ancient and modern languages. 
There was, in fact, a great necessity then, as indeed 
there is now, for a European princess to be ac- 
quainted with the principal languages of Europe; for 
the various royal families were continually intermarry- 
ing with each other, which led to a great many visits, 
and other intercourse between the different courts. 
There was also a great deal of intercourse with the 

M. ofH.— 16— 4 



50 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1550 

pope, in which the Latin language was the medium 
of communication. Lady Jane devoted a great deal 
of time to all these studies, and made rapid pro- 
ficiency in them all. 

The Princess Elizabeth was also an excellent scholar. 
Her teacher was a very learned and celebrated man, 
named Roger Ascham. She spoke French and Italian 
as fluently as she did English. She also wrote and 
spoke Latin with correctness and readiness. She made 
considerable progress in Greek too. She could write 
the Greek character very beautifully, and could ex- 
press herself tolerably well in conversation in that lan- 
guage. One of her companions, a young lady of the 
name of Cecil, is said to have spoken Greek as well 
as English. Roger Ascham took great interest in ad- 
vancing the princess in these studies, and in the course 
of these his instructions he became acquainted with 
Lady Jane, and he praises very highly, in his letters, 
the industry and assiduity of Lady Jane in similar 
pursuits. 

One day Roger Ascham, being on a journey from 
the north of England to London, stopped to make a 
call at the mansion of the Marquis of Dorset. He 
found that the family were all away; they had gone 
off upon a hunting excursion in the park. Lady Jane, 
however, had been left at home, and Ascham went in 
to see her. He found her in the library reading Greek. 
Ascham examined her a little, and was very much 



1550] LADY JANE GREY 51 

surprised to find how well acquainted with the lan- 
guage she had become, although she was then only 
about fifteen years old. He told her that he should 
like very much to have her write him a letter in Greek, 
and this she readily promised to do. He asked her, 
also, how it happened that, at her age, she had made 
such advances in learning. ** I will tell you," said she, 
"how it has happened. One of the greatest benefits 
that God ever conferred upon me was in giving me 
so sharp and severe parents and so gentle a teacher; 
for, when I am in the presence of either my father or 
mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or 
go; eat, drink, be merry or sad; be sewing, playing, 
dancing, or doing any thing else, I must do it, as it 
were, in just such weight, measure, and number, as 
perfectly as possible, or else 1 am so sharply taunted, 
so cruelly threatened, yea, presently, sometimes with 
pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways, which I will 
not name for the honor 1 bear my parents, that I am 
continually teased and tormented. And then, when 
the time comes forme to go to Mr. Elsmer, he teaches 
me so gently, so pleasantly, and with such fair allure- 
ments to learning, that 1 think all the time nothing 
while I am with him; and 1 am always sorry to go 
away from him, because whatsoever else I do but 
learning is full of grief, trouble, fear, and suffering." 

Lady Jane Grey was an intimate friend and com- 
panion of the young King Edward as long as he 



52 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1550 

lived. Edward died when he was sixteen years of 
age, so that he did not reach the period which his 
father had assigned for his reigning in his own name. 
One of King Edward's most prominent and powerful 
ministers during the latter part of his life was the Earl 
of Northumberlapd. The original name of the Earl of 
Northumberland was John Dudley. He was one of 
the train who came in the procession at the close of 
the baptism of Elizabeth, carrying the presents. He 
was a Protestant, and was very friendly to Edward 
and to Lady Jane Grey, for they were Protestants too. 
But his feelings and policy were hostile to Mary, for 
she was a Catholic. Mary was sometimes treated very 
harshly by him, and she was subjected to many pri- 
vations and hardships on account of her religious 
faith. The government of Edward justified these 
measures, on account of the necessity of promoting 
the Reformation, and discouraging popery by every 
means in their power. Northumberland supposed, 
too, that it was safe to do this, for Edward being 
very young, it was probable that he would live and 
reign a long time. It is true that Mary was named, 
in her father's will, as his successor, if she outlived 
him, but then it was highly probable that she would 
not outlive him, for she was several years older than he. 
All these calculations, however, were spoiled by 
the sudden failure of Edward's health when he was 
sixteen years old. Northumberland was much alarmed 



1550] LADY JANE GREY ^^ 

at this. He knew at once that if Edward should die, 
and Mary succeed him, all his power would be gone, 
and he determined to make desperate efforts to pre- 
vent such a result. 

It must not be understood, however, that in com- 
ing to this resolution, Northumberland considered 
himself as intending and planning a deliberate usur- 
pation of power. There was a real uncertainty in re- 
spect to the question who was the true and rightful 
heir to the crown. Northumberland, was, undoubt- 
edly, strongly biased by his interest, but he may 
have been unconscious of the bias, and in advoca- 
ting the mode of succession on which the continuance 
of his own power depended, he may have really be- 
lieved that he was only maintaining what was in it- 
self rightful and just. 

In fact, there is no mode which human ingenuity 
has ever yet devised for determining the hands in 
which the supreme executive of a nation shall be 
lodged, which will always avoid doubt and conten- 
tion. If this power devolves by hereditary descent, 
no rules can be made so minute and full as that cases 
will not sometimes occur that will transcend them. 
If, on the other hand, the plan of election be adopted, 
there will often be technical doubts about a portion 
of the votes, and cases will sometimes occur where 
the result will depend upon this doubtful portion. 
Thus there will be disputes under any system, and 



54 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1550 

ambitious men will seize such occasions to struggle 
for power. 

In order that our readers may clearly understand 
the nature of the plan which Northumberland adopted, 
we present, on the following page, a sort of genea- 
logical table of the royal family of England in the 
days of Elizabeth. 

By examination of this table it will be seen that 
King Henry Vll. left a son and two daughters. The 
son was King Henry VIII., and he had three children. 
His third child was King Edward VI., who was now 
about to die. The other two were the Princesses 
Mary and EHzabeth, who would naturally be consid- 
ered the next heirs after Edward; and besides, King 
Henry had left a will, as has been already explained, 
confirming their rights to the succession. This will 
he had made near the time of his death; but it will 
be recollected that, during his life-time, both the mar- 
riages from which these princesses had sprung had 
been formally annulled. His marriage with Catharine 
of Aragon had been annulled on one plea, and that 
of Anne Boleyn on another. Both these decrees of 
annulment had afterward been revoked, and the right 
of the princesses to succeed had been restored, or 
attempted to be restored, by the will. Still, it ad- 
mitted of a question, after all, whether Mary and 
Elizabeth were to be considered as the children of 
true and lawful wives or not. 



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S6 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1550 

If they were not, then Lady Jane Grey was the 
next heir, for she was placed next to the princesses 
by King Henry the Eighth's will. This will, for some 
reason or other, set aside all the descendants of Mar- 
garet, who went to Scotland as the wife of James IV. 
of that country. What right the king had thus to 
disinherit the children of his sister Margaret was a 
great question. Among her descendants was Mary 
Queen of Scots, as will be seen by the table, and 
she was at this time, the representative of that branch 
of the family. The friends of Mary Queen of Scots 
claimed that she was the lawful heir to the English 
throne after Edward. They maintained that the mar- 
riage of Catharine, the Princess Mary's mother, and 
also that of Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth's mother, had 
both been annulled, and that the will could not re- 
store them. They maintained, also, that the will was 
equally powerless in setting aside the claims of Mar- 
garet, her grandmother. Mary Queen of Scots, though 
silent now, advanced her claim subsequently, and 
made Elizabeth a great deal of trouble. 

Then there was, besides these, a third party, who 
maintained that King Henry the Eighth's will was 
not effectual in legalizing again the annulled mar- 
riages, but that it was sufficient to set aside the 
claims of Margaret. Of course, with them, Lady Jane 
Grey, who, as will be seen by the table, was the 
representative of the second sister of Henry VIII., 



SS3] LADY JANE GREY 



57 



was the only heir. The Earl of Northumberland em- 
braced this view. His motive was to raise Lady 
Jane Grey to the throne, in order to exclude the 
Princess Mary, whose accession he knew very well 
would bring all his greatness to a very sudden end. 

The Earl of Northumberland was at this time the 
principal minister of the young king. The protector 
Somerset had fallen long ago. Northumberland, whose 
name was then John Dudley, had supplanted him, 
and had acquired so great influence and power at 
court that almost every thing seemed to be at his 
disposal. He was, however, generally hated by the 
other courtiers and by the nation. Men who gain 
the confidence of a young or feeble-minded prince, so 
as to wield a great power not properly their own, are 
almost always odious. It was expected, however, 
that his career would be soon brought to an end, as 
all knew that King Edward must die, and it was 
generally understood that Mary was to succeed him. 

Northumberland, however, was very anxious to 
devise some scheme to continue his power, and in 
revolving the subject in his mind, he conceived of 
plans which seemed to promise not only to con- 
tinue, but also greatly to increase it. His scheme 
was to have the princesses' claims set aside, and Lady 
Jane Grey raised to the throne. He had several sons. 
One of them was young, handsome, and accomplished. 
He thought of proposing him to Lady Jane's father 



58 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

as the husband of Lady Jane, and, to induce the 
marquis to consent to this plan, he promised to ob- 
tain a dukedom for him by means of his influence 
with the king. The marquis agreed to the proposal. 
Lady Jane did not object to the husband they offered 
her. The dukedom was obtained, and the marriage, 
together with two others which Northumberland had 
arranged to strengthen his influence, were celebrated, 
all on the same day, with great festivities and rejoic- 
ings. The people looked on moodily, jealous and 
displeased, though they had no open ground of dis- 
pleasure, except that it was unsuitable to have such 
scenes of gayety and rejoicing among the high offi- 
cers of the court while the young monarch himself 
was lying upon his dying bed. They did not yet 
know that it was Northumberland's plan to raise his 
new daughter-in-law to the throne. 

Northumberland thought it would greatly increase 
his prospect of success if he could obtain some 
act of acknowledgement of Lady Jane's claims to the 
crown before Edward died. An opportunity soon oc- 
curred for effecting this purpose. One day, as he 
was sitting by young Edward's bedside, he turned 
the conversation to the subject of the Reformation, 
which had made great progress during Edward's reign, 
and he led Edward on in the conversation, until he 
remarked that it was a great pity to have the work 
all undone by Mary's accession, for she was a Cathg- 



1553] LADY JANE GREY 59 

lie, and would, of course, endeavor to bring the 
country back again under the spiritual dominion of 
Rome. Northumberland then told him that there was 
one way, and one way only, to avert such a ca- 
lamity, and that was to make Lady Jane his heir 
instead of Mary. 

King Edward was a very thoughtful, considerate, 
and conscientious boy, and was very desirous of do- 
ing what he considered his duty. He thought it was 
his duty to do all in his power to sustain the Refor- 
mation, and to prevent the Catholic power from gain- 
ing ascendency in England again. He was, therefore, 
easily persuaded to accede to Northumberland's plan, 
especially as he was himself strongly attached to 
Lady Jane, who had often been his playmate and 
companion. 

The king accordingly sent for three judges of the 
realm, and directed them to draw up a deed of as- 
signment, by which the crown was to be conveyed 
to Lady Jane on the young king's death, Mary and 
Elizabeth being alike excluded. The judges were afraid 
to do this; for, by King Henry the Eighth's settle- 
ment of the crown, all those persons who should do 
any thing to disturb the succession as he arranged it 
were declared to be guilty of high treason. The 
judges knew very well, therefore, that if they should 
do what the king required of them, and then, if the 
friends of Lady Jane should fail of establishing her 



6o QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

upon the throne, the end of the affair would be the 
cutting off of their own heads in the Tower. They rep- 
resented this to the king, and begged to be excused 
from the duty that he required of them. Northumber- 
land was in a great rage at this, and seemed almost 
ready to break out against the judges in open vio- 
lence. They, however, persisted in their refusal to do 
what they well knew would subject them to the pains 
and penalties of treason. 

Northumberland, finding that threats and violence 
would not succeed, contrived another mode of obvi- 
ating the difficulty. He proposed to protect the 
judges from any possible evil consequences of their 
act by a formal pardon for it, signed by the king, and 
sealed with the great seal, so that, in case they were 
ever charged with treason, the pardon would save 
them from punishment. This plan succeeded. The 
pardon was made out, being written with great for- 
mality upon a parchment roll, and sealed with the great 
seal. The judges then prepared and signed the deed 
of settlement by which the crown was given to Lady 
Jane, though, after all, they did it with much reluc- 
tance and many forebodings. 

Northumberland next wanted to contrive some 
plan for getting the princesses into his power, in or- 
der to prevent their heading any movement in behalf 
of their own claims at the death of the king. He 
was also desirous of making such arrangements as to 



1553] LADY JANE GREY 6i 

conceal the death of the king for a few days after it 
should take place, in order that he might get Lady 
Jane and her officers in complete possession of the 
kingdom before the demise of the crown should be 
generally known. For this purpose he dismissed the 
regular physicians who had attended upon the king, 
and put him under the charge of a woman, who pre- 
tended that she had a medicine that would certainly 
cure him. He sent, also, messengers to the princesses, 
who were then in the country north of London, re- 
questing that they would come to Greenwich, to be 
near the sick chamber where their brother was lying, 
that they might cheer and comfort him in his sick- 
ness and pain. 

The princesses obeyed the summons. They each 
set out immediately on the journey, and moved to- 
ward London on their way to Greenwich. In the 
mean time Edward was rapidly declining. The change 
in the treatment which took place when his physi- 
cians left him, made him worse instead of better. His 
cough increased, his breathing became more labored 
and difficult; in a word, his case presented all the 
symptoms of approaching dissolution. At length he 
died. Northumberland attempted to keep the fact 
concealed until after the princesses should arrive, that 
he might get them into his power. Some faithful 
friend, however, made all haste to meet them, in order 
to inform them what was going on. In this way 



62 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

Mary received intelligence of her brother's death when 
she had almost reached London, and was informed, 
also, of the plans of Northumberland for raising Lady 
Jane to the throne. The two princesses were ex- 
tremely alarmed, and both turned back at once to- 
ward the northward again. Mary stopped to write a 
letter to the council, remonstrating against their delay 
in proclaiming her queen, and then proceeded rapidly 
to a strong castle at a place called Framlingham, in 
the county of Suffolk, on the eastern coast of Eng- 
land. She made this her head-quarters, because she 
supposed that the people of that county were particu- 
larly friendly to her; and then, besides, it was near 
the sea, and, in case the course of events should turn 
against her, she could make her escape to foreign 
lands. It is true that the prospect of being a fugitive 
and an exile was very dark and gloomy, but it was 
not so terrible as the idea of being shut up a prisoner 
in the Tower, or being beheaded on the block for 
treason. 

In the mean time, Northumberland went, at the 
head of a troop of his adherents, to the residence 
of Lady Jane Grey, informed her of the death of 
Edward, and announced to her their determination to 
proclaim her queen. Lady Jane was very much as- 
tonished at this news. At first she absolutely refused 
the offered honor; but the solicitations and urgency 
of Northumberland, and of her father and her young 



1553] LADY JANE GREY 63 

husband, at length prevailed. She was conducted to 
London, and instated in at least the semblance of 
power. 

As the news of these transactions spread through- 
out the land, a universal and strong excitement was 
produced, everybody at once taking sides either for 
Mary or Lady Jane. Bands of armed men began to 
assemble. It soon became apparent, however, that, 
beyond the immediate precincts of London, the coun- 
try was almost unanimous for Mary. They dreaded, 
it is true, the danger which they anticipated from 
her Catholic faith, but still they had all considered it 
a settled point, since the death of Henry the Eighth, 
that Mary was to reign whenever Edward should 
die; and this general expectation that she would be 
queen had passed insensibly into an opinion that she 
ought to !_be. Considered strictly as a legal question, 
it was certainly doubtful which of the four claimants 
to the throne had the strongest title; but the public 
were not disposed so to regard it. They chose, on 
the whole, that Mary should reign. Large mihtary 
masses consequently flocked to her standard. Eliza- 
beth took sides with her, and as it was important to 
give as much public effect to her adhesion as possi- 
ble, they furnished Elizabeth with a troop of a thou- 
sand horsemen, at the head of which she rode to 
meet Mary and tender her aid. 



64 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

Northumberland went forth at the head of such 
forces as he could collect, but he soon found that 
the attempt was vain. His troops forsook him. The 
castles which had at first been under his command 
surrendered themselves to Mary. The Tower of Lon- 
don went over to her side. Finally, all being lost, 
Northumberland himself was taken prisoner, and all 
his influential friends with him, and they were com- 
mitted to the Tower. Lady Jane herself, too, together 

with her husband and father, were seized and sent 
to prison. 

Northumberland was immediately put upon his 
trial for treason. He was condemned, and brought 
at once to the block. In fact, the whole affair moved 
very promptly and rapidly on, from its commence- 
ment to its consummation. Edward the Sixth died 
on the 5th of July, and it was only the 226. of Au- 
gust when Northumberland was beheaded. The period 
for which the unhappy Lady Jane enjoyed the honor 
of being called a queen was nine days. 

It was about a month after this that Mary passed 
from the Tower through the city of London in a 
grand triumphal procession to be crowned. The 
royal chariot, covered with cloth of golden tissue, was 
drawn by six horses most splendidly caparisoned. 
Elizabeth, who had aided her sister, so far as she 
could, in the struggle, was admitted to share the tri- 



1553] LADY JANE GREY es 

umph. She had a carriage drawn by six horses too, 
with cloth and decorations of silver. They proceeded 
in this manner, attended and followed by a great 
cavalcade of nobles and soldiery, to Westminster 
Abbey, where Mary took her seat with great formality 
upon her father's throne. 




M. of H.-.I6-5 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Spanish Match. 

Queen Mary's character.— Bigotry.— Bigotry and firmness.— Suitors for Queen 
Mary's hand. — Emperor Charles the Fifth. — Character of his son 
Philip. — The emperor proposes his son. — Mary pleased with the proposal. 
— Plans of the ministers. — The people alarmed. — Opposition to the 
match. — The emperor furnishes money. — The emperor's embassy. — 
Treaty of marriage. — Stipulations of the treaty of marriage. — Wyatt's 
rebellion. — Duke of SuflFolk.— Wyatt advances toward I^ondon.— The 
queen retreats into the city. — Wyatt surrenders. — The Duke of Suffolk 
sent to the Tower. — Beheading of I<ady Jane Grey. — Her heroic forti- 
tude. — Death of Suffolk. — Imprisonment of Elizabeth. — Execution of 
Wyatt.— The wedding plan proceeds. — Hostility of the sailors.— Mary's 
fears and complainings. — Philip lands at Southampton.— Philip's proud 
and haughty demeanor.— The marriage ceremony.— Philip abandons 
Mary. — Her repinings. — Her death. 

WHEN Queen Mary ascended the throne, she 
was a maiden lady not far from thirty- 
five years of age. She was cold, austere, 
and forbidding in her appearance and manners, though 
probably conscientious and honest in her convictions 
of duty. She was a very firm and decided Catholic, 
or, rather, she evinced a certain strict adherence to 
the principles of her religious faith, which we gener- 
ally call firmness when it is exhibited by those whose 
opinions agree with our own, though we are very 
apt to name it bigotry in those who differ from us. 

For instance, when the body of young Edward, her 
brother, after his death, was to be deposited in the 
{66) 



1553] THE SPANISH MATCH 67 

last home of the English kings in Westminster Abbey, 
which is a very magnificent cathedral a little way up 
the river from London, the services were, of course, 
conducted according to the ritual of the English 
Church, which was then Protestant. Mary, however, 
could not conscientiously countenance such services 
even by being present at them. She accordingly as- 
sembled her immediate attendants and personal friends 
in her own private chapel, and celebrated the inter- 
ment there, with Catholic priests, by a service con- 
formed to the Catholic ritual. Was it a bigoted, or 
only a firm and proper, attachment to her own faith, 
which forbade her joining in the national commemo- 
ration? The reader must decide; but, in deciding, he 
is bound to render the same verdict that he would 
have given if it had been a case of a Protestant with- 
drawing thus from Catholic forms. 

At all events, whether bigoted or not, Mary was 
doubtless sincere; but she was so cold, and stern, 
and austere in her character, that she was very little 
likely to be loved. There were a great many persons 
who wished to become her husband, but their motives 
were to share her grandeur and power. Among these 
persons, the most prominent one, and the one appar- 
ently most likely to succeed, was a prince of Spain. 
His name was Philip. 

It was his father's plan, and not his own, that he 
should marry Queen Mary. His father was at this time 



68 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

the most wealthy and powerful monarch in Europe. 
His name was Charles. He is commonly called in his- 
tory Charles V. of Spain. He was not only King of 
Spain, but Emperor of Germany. He resided sometimes 
at Madrid, and sometimes at Brussels in Flanders. His 
son Philip had been married to a Portuguese princess, 
but his wife had died, and thus Philip was a widower. 
Still, he was only twenty-seven years of age, but he 
was as stern, severe, and repulsive in his manners as 
Mary. His personal appearance, too, corresponded 
with his character. He was a very decided Catholic 
also, and in his natural spirit, haughty, ambitious, and 
domineering. 

The Emperor Charles, as soon as he heard of young 
Edward's death and of Mary's accession to the English 
throne, conceived the plan of proposing to her his son 
Philip for a husband. He sent over a wise and saga- 
cious statesman from his court to make the proposi- 
tion, and to urge it by such reasons as would be most 
likely to influence Mary's mind, and the minds of the 
great officers of her government. The embassador 
managed the affair well. In fact, it was probably easy 
to manage it. Mary would naturally be pleased with 
the idea of such a young husband, who, besides being 
young and accomplished, was the son of the greatest 
potentate in Europe, and likely, one day, to take his fa- 
ther's place on that lofty elevation. Besides, Mary 
Queen of Scots, who had rival claims to Queen Mary's 



1553] THE SPANISH MATCH 69 

throne, had married, or was about to marry, the son of 
the King of France, and there was a little glory in out- 
shining her, by having for a husband a son of the 
King of Spain. It might, however, perhaps, be a ques- 
tion which was the greatest match; for, though the 
court of Paris was the most brilliant, Spain, being at 
that time possessed of the gold and silver mines of its 
American colonies, was at least the richest country in 
the world. 

Mary's ministers, when they found that Mary her- 
self liked the plan, fell in with it too. Mary had been 
beginning, very quietly indeed, but very efficiently, her 
measures for bringing back the English government 
and nation to the Catholic faith. Her ministers told 
her now, however, that if she wished to succeed in 
effecting this match, she must suspend all these plans 
until the match was consummated. The people of Eng- 
land were generally of the Protestant faith. They had 
been very uneasy and restless under the progress 
which the queen had been making in silencing Prot- 
estant preachers, and bringing back Catholic rites and 
ceremonies; and now, if they found that their queen 
was going to marry so rigid and uncompromising a 
Catholic as Philip of Spain, they would be doubly 
alarmed. She must suspend, therefore, for a time, her 
measures for restoring papacy, unless she was willing 
to give up her husband. The queen saw that this 
was the alternative, and she decided on following her 



yo QUEEN ELIZABETH [1553 

ministers' advice. She did all in her power to quiet 
and calm the public mind, in order to prepare the 
way. for announcing the proposed connection. 

Rumors, however, began to be spread abroad that 
such a design was entertained before Mary was fully 
prepared to promulgate it. These rumors produced 
great excitement, and awakened strong opposition. 
The people knew Philip's ambitious and overbearing 
character, and they believed that if he were to come 
to England as the husband of the queen, the whole 
government would pass into his hands, and, as he 
would naturally be very much under the influence of 
his father, the connection was likely to result in mak- 
ing England a mere appendage to the already vast 
dominions of the emperor. The House of Commons 
appointed a committee of twenty members, and sent 
them to the queen, with a humble petition that she 
would not marry a foreigner. The queen was much 
displeased at receiving such a petition, and she dis- 
solved the Parliament. The members dispersed, car- 
rying with them every where expressions of their dis- 
satisfaction and fear. England, they said, was about 
to become a province of Spain, and the prospect of 
such a consummation, wherever the tidings went, 
filled the people of the country with great alarm. 

Queen Mary's principal minister of state at this 
time was a crafty politician, whose name was Gar- 
diner. Gardiner sent word to the emperor that there 



1554] THE SPANISH MATCH 71 

was great opposition to his son's marriage in England, 
and that he feared that he should not be able to ac- 
complish it, unless the terms of the contract of mar- 
riage were made very favorable to the queen and to 
England, and unless the emperor could furnish him 
with a large sum of money to use as a means of 
bringing influential persons of the realm to favor it. 
Charles decided to send the money. He borrowed it 
of some of the rich cities of Germany, making his son 
Philip give his bond to repay it as soon as he should 
get possession of his bride, and of the rich and pow- 
erful country over which she reigned. The amount 
thus remitted to England is said by the historians of 
those days to have been a sum equal to two millions 
of dollars. The bribery was certainly on a very re- 
spectable scale. 

The emperor also sent a very magnificent embassy 
to London, with a distinguished nobleman at its 
head, to arrange the terms and contracts of the mar- 
riage. This embassy came in great state, and, dur- 
ing their residence in London, were the objects of 
great attention and parade. The eclat of their recep- 
tion, and the influence of the bribes, seemed to si- 
lence opposition to the scheme. Open opposition 
ceased to be expressed, though a strong and inveter- 
ate determination against the measure was secretly 
extending itself throughout the realm. This, how- 
ever, did not prevent the negotiations from going 



72 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

on. The terms were probably all fully understood 
and agreed upon before the embassy came, so that 
nothing remained but the formalities of writing and 
signing the articles. 

Some of the principal stipulations of these articles 
were, that Philip was to have the title of King of 
England jointly with Mary's title of queen. Mary 
was also to share with him, in the same way, his 
titles in Spain. It was agreed that Mary should have 
the exclusive power of the appointment of officers of 
government in England, and that no Spaniards should 
be eligible at all. Particular provisions were made 
in respect to the children which might result from 
the marriage, as to how they should inherit rights of 
government in the two countries. Philip had one 
son already, by his former wife. This son was to 
succeed his father in the kingdom of Spain, but the 
other dominions of Philip on the Continent were to 
descend to the offspring of this new marriage, in 
modes minutely specified to fit all possible cases 
which might occur. The making of all these speci- 
fications, however, turned out to be labor lost, as 
Mary never had children. 

It was also specially agreed that Philip should 
not bring Spanish or foreign domestics into the 
realm, to give uneasiness to the English people; that 
he would never take the queen out of England, nor 
carry any of the children away, without the consent 



1554] THE SPANISH MATCH 73 

of the English nobility; and that, if the queen were 
to die before him, all his rights and claims of every 
sort, in respect to England, should forever cease. He 
also agreed that he would never carry away any of 
the jewels or other property of the crown, nor suffer 
any other person to do so. 

These stipulations, guarding so carefully the rights 
of Mary and of England, were intended to satisfy the 
English people, and remove their objections to the 
match. They produced some effect, but the hostility 
was too deeply seated to be so easily allayed. It 
grew, on the contrary, more and more threatening, 
until at length a conspiracy was formed by a number 
of influential and powerful men, and a plan of open 
rebellion organized. 

The leader in this plan was Sir Thomas Wyatt, 
and the outbreak which followed is known in history 
as Wyatt's rebellion. Another of the leaders was 
the Duke of Suffolk, who, it will be recollected, was 
the father of Lady Jane Grey. This led people to 
suppose that the plan of the conspirators was not 
merely to prevent the consummation of the Spanish 
match, but to depose Queen Mary entirely, and to 
raise the Lady Jane to the throne. However this may 
be, an extensive and formidable conspiracy was 
formed. There were to have been several risings in 
different parts of the kingdom. They all failed ex- 
cept the one which Wyatt himself was to head, 



74 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

which was in Kent, in the southeastern part of the 
country. This succeeded so far, at least, that a con- 
siderable force was collected, and began to advance 
toward London from the southern side. 

Queen Mary was very much alarmed. She had 
no armed force in readiness to encounter this danger. 
She sent messengers across the Thames and down 
the river to meet Wyatt, who was advancing at the 
head of four thousand men, to ask what it was that 
he demanded. He repHed that the queen must be 
delivered up as his prisoner, and also the Tower of 
London be surrendered to him. This showed that 
his plan was to depose the queen. Mary rejected 
these proposals at once, and, having no forces to 
meet this new enemy, she had to retreat from West- 
minster into the city of London, and here she took 
refuge in the city hall, called the Guildhall, and put 
herself under the protection of the city authorities. 
Some of her friends urged her to take shelter in the 
Tower; but she had more confidence, she said, in 
the faithfulness and loyalty of her subjects than in 
castle walls. 

Wyatt continued to advance. He was still upon the 
south side of the river. There was but one bridge 
across the Thames, at London, in those days, though 
there are half a dozen now, and this one was so 
strongly barricaded and guarded that Wyatt did not 
dare to attempt to cross it. He went up the river, 



1554] THE SPANISH MATCH 75 

therefore, to cross at a higher point; and this cir- 
cuit, and several accidental circumstances which oc- 
curred, detained him so long that a considerable force 
had been got together to receive him when he was 
ready to enter the city. He pushed boldly on into the 
narrow streets, which received him hke a trap or a 
snare. The city troops hemmed up his way after he 
had entered. They barricaded the streets, they shut 
the gates, and armed men poured in to take posses- 
sion of all the avenues. Wyatt depended upon find- 
ing the people of London on his side. They turned, 
instead, against him. All hope of success in his en- 
terprise, and all possibility of escape from his own 
awful danger, disappeared together. A herald came 
from the queen's officer calling upon him to surrender 
himself quietly, and save the effusion of blood. He 
surrendered in an agony of terror and despair. 

The Duke of Suffolk learned these facts in another 
county, where he was endeavoring to raise a force to 
aid Wyatt. He immediately fled, and hid himself in 
the house of one of his domestics. He was betrayed, 
however, seized, and sent to the Tower. Many other 
prominent actors in the insurrection were arrested, 
and the others fled in all directions, wherever they 
could find concealment or safety. 

Lady Jane's life had been spared thus far, although 
she had been, in fact, guilty of treason against Mary 
by the former attempt to take the crown. She now, 



76 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

however, two days after the capture of Wyatt, re- 
ceived word that she must prepare to die. She was, 
of course, surprised and shocked at the suddenness of 
this announcement; but she soon regained her com- 
posure, and passed through the awful scenes preceding 
her death with a fortitude amounting to heroism, 
which was very astonishing in one so young. Her 
husband was to die too. He was beheaded first, and 
she saw the headless body, as it was brought back 
from the place of execution, before her turn came. 
She acknowledged her guilt in having attempted 
to seize her cousin's crown. As the attempt to seize 
this crown failed, mankind consider her technically 
guilty. If it had succeeded, Mary, instead of Jane, 
would have been the traitor who would have died 
for attempting criminally to usurp a throne. 

In the mean time Wyatt and Suffolk remained 
prisoners in the Tower. Suffolk was overwhelmed 
with remorse and sorrow at having been the means, 
by his selfish ambition, of the cruel death of so inno- 
cent and lovely a child. He did not suffer this an- 
guish long, however, for five days after his son and 
Lady Jane were executed, his head fell too from the 
block. Wyatt was reserved a little longer. 

He was more formally tried, and in his examina- 
tion he asserted that the Princess Elizabeth was in- 
volved in the conspiracy. Officers were immediately 
sent to arrest Elizabeth. She was taken to a royal 



1554] THE SPANISH MATCH 77 

palace at Westminster, just above London, called 
Whitehall, and shut up there in close confinement, 
and no one was allowed to visit her or speak to her. 
The particulars of this imprisonment will be described 
more fully in the next chapter. Fifty or sixty com- 
mon conspirators, not worthy of being beheaded 
with an ax, were hanged, and a company of six hun- 
dred more were brought, their hands tied, and halters 
about their necks, a miserable gang, into Mary's pres- 
ence, before her palace, to be pardoned. Wyatt was 
then executed. When he came to die, however, he 
retracted what he had alleged of Elizabeth. He de- 
clared that she was entirely innocent of any partici- 
pation in the scheme of rebellion. Elizabeth's friends 
believe that he accused her because he supposed that 
such a charge would be agreeable to Mary, and that 
he should himself be more leniently treated in conse- 
quence of it, but that when at last he found that 
sacrificing her would not save him, his guilty con- 
science scourged him into doing her justice in his 
last hours. 

All obstacles to the wedding were now apparently 
removed; for, after the failure of Wyatt's rebellion, 
nobody dared to make any open opposition to the 
plans of the queen, though there was still abundance 
of secret dissatisfaction. Mary was now very impa- 
tient to have the marriage carried into effect. A new 
Parliament was called, and its concurrence in the 



78 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

plan obtained. Mary ordered a squadron of ships to 
be fitted out and sent to Spain, to convey the bride- 
groom to England. The admiral who had command 
of this fleet wrote to her that the sailors were so 
hostile to Philip that he did not think it was safe for 
her to intrust him to their hands. Mary then com- 
manded this force to be dismissed, in order to ar- 
range some other way to bring Philip over. She 
was then full of anxiety and apprehension lest some 
accident might befall him. His ship might be 
wrecked, or he might fall into the hands of the 
French, who were not at all well disposed toward 
the match. Her thoughts and her conversation were 
running upon this topic all the time. She was rest- 
less by day and sleepless by night, until her health 
was at last seriously impaired, and her friends began 
really to fear that she might lose her reason. She 
was very anxious, too, lest Philip should find her 
beauty so impaired by her years, and by the state of 
her health, that she should fail, when he arrived, of 
becoming the object of his love. 

In fact, she complained already that Philip neglected 
her. He did not write to her, or express in any way 
the interest and affection which she thought ought to 
be awakened in his mind by a bride who, as she ex- 
pressed it, was going to bring a kingdom for a dowry. 
This sort of cold and haughty demeanor was, how- 
ever, in keeping with the self-importance and the pride 



1555] THE SPANISH MATCH 79 

which then often marked the Spanish character, and 
which, in Philip particularly, always seemed to be 
extreme. 

At length the time arrived for his embarkation. 
He sailed across the Bay of Biscay, and up the Eng- 
lish Channel until he reached Southampton, a fa- 
mous port on the southern coast of England. There 
he landed with great pomp and parade. He assumed 
a very proud and stately bearing, which made a very 
unfavorable impression upon the English people who 
had been sent by Queen Mary to receive him. He 
drew his sword when he landed, and walked about 
with it, for a time, in a very pompous manner, hold- 
ing the sword unsheathed in his hand, the crowd of 
by-standers that had collected to witness the spectacle 
of the landing looking on all the time, and wonder- 
ing what such an action could be intended to inti- 
mate. It was probably intended simply to make them 
wonder. The authorities of Southampton had arranged 
it to come in procession to meet Philip, and present 
him with the keys of the gates, an emblem of an 
honorable reception into the city. Philip received the 
keys, but did not deign a word of reply. The dis- 
tance and reserve which it had been customary to 
maintain between the English sovereigns and their 
people was always pretty strongly marked, but Philip's 
loftiness and grandeur seemed to surpass all bounds. 

Mary went two thirds of the way from London to 



8o QUEEN ELIZABETH [1555 

the coast to meet the bridegroom. Here the marriage 
ceremony was performed, and the whole party came, 
with great parade and rejoicings, back to London, and 
Mary, satisfied and happy, took up her abode with 
her new lord in Windsor Castle. 

The poor queen was, however, in the end, sadly 
disappointed in her husband. He felt no love for her; 
he was probably, in fact, incapable of love. He re- 
mained in England a year, and then, growing weary 
of his wife and of his adopted country, he went 
back to Spain again, greatly to Queen Mary's vexa- 
tion and chagrin. They were both extremely disap- 
pointed in not having children. Philip's motive for 
marrying Mary was ambition wholly, and not love; 
and when he found that an heir to inherit the two 
kingdoms was not to be expected, he treated his un- 
happy wife with great neglect and cruelty, and finally 
went away from her altogether. He came back again, 
it is true, a year afterward, but it was only to com- 
pel Mary to join with him in a war against France. 
He told her that if she would not do this, he would 
go away from England and never see her again. 
Mary yielded; but at length, harassed and worn down 
with useless regrets and repinings, her mental suffer- 
ings are supposed to have shortened her days. She 
died miserably a few years after her marriage, and 
thus the Spanish match turned out to be a very 
unfortunate match indeed. 



CHAPTER V. 
Elizabeth in the Tower. 

Elizabeth's position. — I^egitimacy of Mary's and Elizabeth's birth. — Mary's 
and Elizabeth's differences. — Courteney's long imprisonment. — Mary's 
attentions to Courteney.— Courteney's attentions to Elizabeth. — Mary'* 
plan to get Elizabeth in her power. — Elizabeth's wariness. — Wyatt ac- 
cuses Elizabeth. — Her seizure. — Elizabeth borne in a litter. — She is ex- 
amined and released.— Elizabeth again arrested.— Her letter to Mary. — 
The situation of the Tower. — The Traitor's Gate.— Elizabeth conveyed 
to the Tower. — She is landed at the Traitor's Gate. — Elizabeth's recep- 
tion at the Tower. — Her unwillingness to enter. — Elizabeth's indigna- 
tion and grief. — She is closely imprisoned. — Elizabeth in the garden. — 
The little child and the flowers.— Elizabeth greatly alarmed.— Her re- 
moval from the Tower. — Elizabeth's fears. — Mary's designs. — Elizabeth 
taken to Richmond. — Mary's plan for marrying her. — Elizabeth's 
journey to Woodstock.— Christmas festivities. — Elizabeth persists in her 
innocence. — The torch-light visit.— Reconciliation between Elizabeth 
and Mary. — Elizabeth's release. 

THE imprisonment of Queen Elizabeth in the 
Tower, which was briefly alluded to in the 
last chapter, deserves a more full narration 
than was possible to give to it there. She had re- 
tired from court some time before the difficulties about 
the Spanish match arose. It is true that she took 
sides with Mary in the contest with Northumberland 
and the friends of Jane Grey, and she shared her 
royal sister's triumph in the pomp and parade of the 
coronation; but, after all, she and Mary could not 

M. of H.— 16—6 (81) 



82 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

possibly be very good friends. The marriages of their 
respective mothers could not both have been valid. 
Henry the Eighth was so impatient that he could not 
wait for a divorce from Catharine before he married 
Anne Boleyn. The only way to make the latter mar- 
riage legal, therefore, was to consider the former one 
null and void from the beginning, and if the former 
one was not thus null and void, the latter must be 
so. If Henry had waited for a divorce, then both 
marriages might have been valid, each for the time 
of its own continuance, and both the princesses might 
have been lawful heirs; but as it was, neither of 
them could maintain her own claims to be considered 
a lawful daughter, without denying, by implication at 
least, those of the other. They were therefore, as it 
were, natural enemies. Though they might be out- 
wardly civil to each other, it was not possible that 
there could be any true harmony or friendship between 
them. 

A circumstance occurred, too, soon after Mary's 
accession to the throne which resulted in openly 
alienating the feelings of the two ladies from each 
other. There was a certain prisoner in the Tower of 
London, a gentleman of high rank and gieat consid- 
eration, named Courteney, now about twenty-six 
years of age, who had been imprisoned in the Tower 
by King Henry the Eighth when he was only twelve 
years old, on account of some political offenses of 



1554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 83 

his father ! He had thus been a close prisoner for 
fourteen years at Mary's accession; but Mary released 
him. It was found, when, he returned to society 
again, that he had employed his solitary hours in 
cultivating his mind, acquiring knowledge, and avail- 
ing himself of all the opportunities for improvement 
which his situation afforded, and that he came forth 
an intelligent, accomplished, and very agreeable man. 
The interest which his appearance and manners ex- 
cited was increased by the sympathy naturally felt 
for the sufferings that he had endured. In a word, 
he became a general favorite. The rank of his fam- 
ily was high enough for Mary to think of him for 
her husband, for this was before the Spanish match 
was thought of. Mary granted him a title, and large 
estates, and showed him many other favors, and, as 
every body supposed, tried very hard to make an im- 
pression on his heart. Her efforts were, however, 
vain. Courteney gave an obvious preference to Eliz- 
abeth, who was young then, at least, if not beauti- 
ful. This successful rivalry on the part of her sister 
filled the queen's heart with resentment and envy, 
and she exhibited her chagrin by so many little marks 
of neglect and incivility, that Elizabeth's resentment 
was roused in its turn, and she asked permission to 
retire from court to her residence in the country. 
Mary readily gave the permission, and thus it hap- 
pened that when Wyatt's rebeUion first broke out, as 



84 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

described in the last chapter, Elizabeth was living in 
retirement and seclusion at Ashridge, an estate of hers 
at some distance west of London. As to Courteney, 
Mary found some pretext or other for sending him 
back again to his prison in the Tower. 

Mary was immediately afraid that the malcontents 
would join with Elizabeth and attempt to put forward 
her name and her claims to the crown, which, if they 
were to do it, would make their movement very for- 
midable. She was impressed immediately with the 
idea that it was of great importance to get Elizabeth 
back again into her power. The most probable way 
of succeeding in doing this, she thought, was to write 
her a kind and friendly letter, inviting her to return. 
She accordingly wrote such a letter. She said in it 
that certain evil-disposed persons were plotting some 
disturbances in the kingdom, and that she thought 
that Elizabeth was not safe where she was. She urged 
her, therefore, to return, saying that she should be 
truly welcome, and should be protected against all 
danger if she would come. 

An invitation from a queen is a command, and Eliza- 
beth would have felt bound to obey this summons, 
but she was sick when it came. At least she was 
not well, and she was not much disposed to under- 
rate her sickness for the sake of being able to travel 
on this occasion. The officers of her household made 



1554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 85 

out a formal certificate to the effect that Elizabeth 
was not able to undertake such a journey. 

In the mean time Wyatt's rebellion broke out; he 
marched to London, was entrapped there and taken 
prisoner, as is related at length in the last chapter. 
In his confessions he implicated the Princess Elizabeth, 
and also Courteney, and Mary's government then de- 
termined that they must secure Elizabeth's person at 
all events, sick or well. They sent, therefore, three 
gentlemen as commissioners, with a troop of horse to 
attend them, to bring her to London. They carried 
the queen's litter with them, to bring the princess 
upon it in case she should be found unable to travel 
in any other way. 

This party arrived at Ashridge at ten o'clock at 
night. They insisted on being admitted at once into 
the chamber of Elizabeth, aud there they made known 
their errand. Elizabeth was terrified; she begged not 
to be moved, as she was really too sick to go. They 
called in some physicians, who certified that she could 
be moved without danger to her life. The next morn- 
ing they put her upon the litter, a sort of covered bed, 
formed like a palanquin, and borne, like a palanquin, 
by men. It was twenty-nine miles to London, and it 
took the party four days to reach the city, they moved 
so slowly. This circumstance is mentioned sometimes 
as showing how sick Elizabeth must have been. But 
the fact is, there was no reason whatever for any 



86 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

haste. Elizabeth was now completely in Mary's power, 
and it could make no possible difference how long 
she was upon the road. 

The litter passed along the roads in great state. 
It was a princess that they were bearing. As they 
approached London, a hundred men in handsome uni- 
forms went before, and an equal number followed. 
A great many people came out from the city to meet 
the princess, as a token of respect. This displeased 
Mary, but it could not well be prevented or punished. 
On their arrival they took Elizabeth to one of the 
palaces at Westminster, called Whitehall. She was 
examined by Mary's privy council. Nothing was 
proved against her, and, as the rebelHon seemed now 
wholly at an end, she was at length released, and 
thus ended her first durance as a political prisoner. 

It happened, however, that other persons impli- 
cated in Wyatt's plot, when examined, made charges 
against Elizabeth in respect to it, and Queen Mary 
sent another force and arrested her again. She was 
taken now to a famous royal palace, called Hampton 
Court, which is situated on the Thames, a few miles 
above the city. She brought many of the officers of 
her household and of her personal attendants with 
her; but one of the queen's ministers, accompanied 
by two other officers, came soon after, and dismissed 
all her own attendants, and placed persons in the 
service of the queen in their place. They also set a 



1554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 87 

guard around the palace, and then left the princess, 
for the night, a close prisoner, and yet without any 
visible signs of coercion, for all these guards might be 
guards of honor. 

The next day some officers came again, and told 
her that it had been decided to send her to the Tower, 
and that a barge was ready at the river to convey 
her. She was very much agitated and alarmed, and 
begged to be allowed to send a letter to her sister 
before they took her away. One of the officers in- 
sisted that she should have the privilege, and the 
other that she should not. The former conquered in 
the contest, and Elizabeth wrote the letter and sent 
it. It contained an earnest and solemn disavowal of 
all participation in the plots which she had been 
charged with encouraging, and begged Mary to be- 
lieve that she was innocent, and allow her to be re- 
leased. 

The letter did no good. Elizabeth was taken into 
the barge and conveyed in a very private manner 
down the river. Hampton Court is above London, 
several miles, and the Tower is just below the city. 
There are several entrances to this vast castle, some 
of them by stairs from the river. Among these is 
one by which prisoners accused of great political 
crimes were usually taken in, and which is called the 
Traitors' Gate. There was another entrance, also, 
from the river, by which a more honorable admission 



88 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

to the fortress might be attained. The Tower was 
not solely a prison. It was often a place of retreat 
for kings and queens from any sudden danger, and 
was frequently occupied by them as a somewhat per- 
manent residence. There were a great number of 
structures within the walls, in some of which royal 
apartments were fitted up with great splendor. E'iza- 
beth had often been in the Tower as a resident or a 
visitor, and thus far there was nothing in the circum- 
stances of the case to forbid the supposition that they 
might be taking her there as a guest or resident now. 
She was anxious and uneasy, it is true, but she was 
not certain that she was regarded as a prisoner. 

In the mean time, the barge, with the other boats 
in attendance, passed down the river in the rain, for 
it was a stormy day, a circumstance which aided the 
authorities in their effort to convey their captive to 
her gloomy prison without attracting the attention of 
the populace. Besides, it was the day of some great 
religious festival, when the people were generally in 
the churches. This day had been chosen on that 
very account. The barge and the boats came down 
the river, therefore, without attracting much attention; 
they approached the landing-place at last, and stopped 
at the flight of steps leading up from the water to 
the Traitors' Gate. 

Elizabeth declared that she was no traitor, and 
that she would not be landed there. The nobleman 



1 554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 89 

who had charge of her told her simply, in reply, that 
she could not have her choice of a place to land. At 
the same time, he offered her his cloak to protect 
her from the rain in passing from the barge to the 
castle gate. Umbrellas had not been invented in those 
days. Elizabeth threw the cloak away from her in 
vexation and anger. She found, however, that it was 
of no use to resist. She could not choose. She 
stepped from the barge out upon the stairs in the 
rain, saying, as she did so, ''Here lands as true and 
faithful a subject as ever landed a prisoner at these 
stairs. Before Thee, O God, I speak it, having now 
no friends but Thee alone." 

A large company of the warders and keepers of 
the castle had been drawn up at the Traitors' Gate 
to receive her, as was customary on occasions when 
prisoners of high rank were to enter the Tower. As 
these men were always dressed in uniform of a pe- 
culiar antique character, such a parade of them made 
quite an imposing appearance. Elizabeth asked what 
it meant. They told her that that was the customary 
mode of receiving a prisoner. She said that if it 
was, she hoped that they would dispense with the 
ceremony in her case, and asked that, for her sake, 
the men might be dismissed from such attendance in 
so inclement a season. The men blessed her for her 
goodness, and kneeled down and prayed that God 
would preserve her. 



90 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

She was extremely unwilling to go into the 
prison. As they approached the part of the edifice 
where she was to be confined, through the court- 
yard of the Tower, she stopped and sat down upon 
a stone, perhaps a step, or the curb stone of a walk. 
The Ueutenant urged her to go in out of the cold 
and wet. ** Better sitting here than in a worse place," 
she rephed, *'for God knoweth whither you are 
bringing me." However, she rose and went on. 
She entered the prison, was conducted to her room, 
and the doors were locked and bolted upon her. 

EUzabeth was kept closely imprisoned for a month; 
after that, some little relaxation in the strictness of 
her seclusion was allowed. Permission was very 
reluctantly granted to her to walk every day in the 
royal apartments, which were now unoccupied, so 
that there was no society to be found there, but it 
afforded her a sort of pleasure to range through them 
for recreation and exercise. But this privilege could 
not be accorded without very strict limitations and 
conditions. Two officers of the Tower and three 
women had to attend her; the windows, too, were 
shut, and she was not permitted to go and look out 
at them. This was rather melancholy recreation, it 
must be allowed, but it was better than being shut 
up all day in a single apartment, bolted and barred. 

There was a small garden within the castle, not 
far from the prison, and after some time Elizabeth 



1554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 91 

was permitted to walk there. The gates and doors, 
however, were kept carefully closed, and all the pris- 
oners, whose rooms looked into it from the surround- 
ing buildings, were closely watched by their respective 
keepers, while Elizabeth was in the garden, to prevent 
their having any communication with her by looks or 
signs. There were a great many persons confined at 
this time, who had been arrested on charges connected 
with Wyatt's rebellion, and the authorities seem to 
have been very specially vigilant to prevent the possi- 
bility of Elizabeth's having communication with any 
of them. There was a little child of five years of age 
who used to come and visit EHzabeth in her room, 
and bring her flowers. He was the son of one of 
the subordinate officers of the Tower. It was, how- 
ever, at last suspected that he was acting as a mes- 
senger between EHzabeth and Courteney. Courteney, 
it will be recollected, had been sent by Mary back to 
the Tower again, so that he and Elizabeth were now 
suffering the same hard fate in neighboring cells. 
When the boy was suspected of bearing communica- 
tions between these friends and companions in suf- 
fering, he was called before an officer and closely 
examined. His answers were all open and childlike, 
and gave no confirmation to the idea which had been 
entertained. The child, however, was forbidden to go 
to Elizabeth's apartment any more. He was very 
much grieved at this, and he watched for the next 



92 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

time that Elizabeth was to walk in the garden, and 
putting his mouth to a hole in the gate, he called 
out. " Lady, I cannot bring you any more flowers." 

After Elizabeth had been thus confined about three 
months, she was one day terribly alarmed by the 
sounds 01 martial parade within the Tower, produced 
by the entrance of an officer from Queen Mary, 
named Sir Thomas Beddingfield, at the head of three 
hundred men. Elizabeth supposed that they were 
come to execute sentence of death upon her. She 
asked immediately if the platform on which Lady 
Jane Grey was beheaded had been taken away. They 
told her that it had been removed. She was then 
somewhat relieved. They afterward told her that Sir 
Thomas had come to take her away from the Tower, 
but that it was not known where she was to go. 
This alarmed her again, and she sent for the constable 
of the Tower, whose name was Lord Chandos, and 
questioned him very closely to learn what they were 
going to do with her. He said that it had been de- 
cided to remove her from the Tower, and send her to 
a place called Woodstock, where she was to remain 
under Sir Thomas Beddingfield's custody, at a royal 
palace which was situated there. Woodstock is forty 
or fifty miles to the westward of London, and not 
far from the city of Oxford. 

Elizabeth was very much alarmed at this intelli- 
gence. Her mind was filled with vague and uncer- 



1554] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 93 

tain fears and forebodings, which were none the less 
oppressive for being uncertain and vague. She had, 
however, no immediate cause for apprehension. Mary 
found that there was no decisive evidence against 
her, and did not dare to keep her a prisoner in the 
Tower too long. There was a large and influential 
part of the kingdom who were Protestants. They 
were jealous of the progress Mary was making to- 
ward bringing the Catholic religion in again. They 
abhorred the Spanish match. They naturally looked 
to Elizabeth as their leader and head, and Mary 
thought that by too great or too long-continued harsh- 
ness in her treatment of Elizabeth, she would only 
exasperate them, and perhaps provoke a new out- 
break against her authority. She determined, there- 
fore, to remove the princess from the Tower to some 
less odious place of confinement. 

She was taken first to Queen Mary's court which 
was then held at Richmond, just above London; but 
she was surrounded here by soldiers and guards, and 
confined almost as strictly as before. She was des- 
tined, however, here, to another surprise. It was a 
proposition of marriage. Mary had been arranging 
a plan for making her the wife of a certain personage, 
styled the Duke of Savoy. His dominions were on 
the confines of Switzerland and France, and Mary 
thought that if her rival were once married and re- 
moved there, all the troubles which she, Mary, had 



94 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554 

experienced on her account would be ended forever. 
She thought, too, that her sister would be glad to 
accept this offer, which opened such an immediate 
escape from the embarrassments and sufferings of her 
situation in England. But Elizabeth was prompt, de- 
cided, and firm, in the rejection of this plan. England 
was her home, and to be Queen of England the end 
and aim of all her wishes and plans. She had rather 
continue a captive for the present in her native land, 
than to live in splendor as the consort of a sovereign 
duke beyond the Rhone. 

Mary then ordered Sir Thomas Beddingfield to take 
her to Woodstock. She traveled on horseback, and 
was several days on the journey. Her passage through 
the country attracted great attention. The people as- 
sembled by the wayside, expressing their kind wishes, 
and offering her gifts. The bells were rung in the 
villages through which she passed. She arrived finally 
at Woodstock, and was shut up in the palace there. 

This was in July, and she remained in Woodstock 
more than a year, not, however, always very closely 
confined. At Christmas she was taken to court, and 
allowed to share in the festivities and rejoicings. On 
this occasion — it was the first Christmas after the 
marriage of Mary and Philip — the great hall of the 
palace was illuminated with a thousand lamps. The 
princess sat at table next to the king and queen. She 
was on other occasions, too, taken away for a time, 



1555] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 95 

and then returned again to her seclusion at Wood- 
stock. These changes, perhaps, only served to make 
her feel more than ever the hardships of her lot. They 
say that one day, as she sat at her window, she heard 
a milk-maid singing in the fields, in a blithe and 
merry strain, and said, with a sigh, that she wished 
she was a milk-maid too. 

King Philip, after his marriage, gradually interested 
himself in her behalf, and exerted his influence to have 
her released; and Mary's ministers had frequent inter- 
views with her, and endeavored to induce her to make 
some confession of guilt, and to petition Mary for re- 
lease as a matter of mercy. They could not, they said, 
release her while she persisted in her innocence, with- 
out admitting that they and Mary had been in the 
wrong, and had imprisoned her unjustly. But the prin- 
cess was immovable. She declared that she was per- 
fectly innocent, and that she would never, therefore, 
say that she was guilty. She would rather remain in 
prison for the truth, than be at liberty and have it be- 
lieved that she had been guilty of disloyalty and trea- 
son. 

At length, one evening in May, Elizabeth received 
a summons to go to the palace and visit Mary in her 
chamber. She was conducted there by torch -light. 
She had a long interview with the queen, the conver- 
sation being partly in English and partly in Spanish. 
It was not very satisfactory on either side. Elizabeth 



/ 



/ 



96 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1555 

persisted in asserting her innocence, but in other re- 
spects she spoke in a kind and conciliatory manner 
to the queen. The interview ended in a sort of re- 
conciliation. Mary put a valuable ring upon Elizabeth's 
finger in token of the renewal of friendship, and soon 
afterwards the long period of restraint and confine- 
ment was ended, and the princess returned to her own 
estate at Hatfield in Hertfordshire, where she lived 
sometime in seclusion, devoting herself, in a great 
measure, to the study of Latin and Greek, under the 
instructions of Roger Ascham. 




CHAPTER VI. 

Accession to the Throne. 

Mary's unhappy reign.— Unrequited love.— Mary's sufferings.— Her religiou* 
principles.— Progress of Mary's Catholic zeal.— Her moderation at first. 

— Mary's terrible persecution of the Protestants.— Burning at the stake. 

— The title of Bloody given to Mary.— Mary and Elizabeth reconciled.— 
Scenes of festivity.— The war with France.— I,oss of Calais.— Murmurs 
of the English.— King of Sweden's proposal to Elizabeth.— Mary's en- 
ergy.— Mary's privy council alarmed.— Their perplexity.— Uncertainty 
about Elizabeth's future course.— Her cautious policy.— Death of Mary. 

— Announcement to Parliament.— Elizabeth proclaimed.— Joy of the 
people.— The Te Deum.— Elizabeth's emotions.— Cecil made secretary 
of state.— His faithfulness.— Elizabeth's charge to Cecil.— Her journey 
to I^ondon.- Elizabeth's triumphant entrance into the Tower.— The 
coronation.— Pageants in the streets.— Devices.— Presentation of the 
Bible.— The heavy purse.— The sprig of rosemary.— The wedding ring.— 

IF IT were the story of Mary instead of that of 
Elizabeth that we were following, we should 
have now to pause and draw a very melancholy 
picture of the scenes which darkened the close of the 
queen's unfortunate and unhappy history. Mary loved 
her husband, but she could not secure his love in re- 
turn. He treated her with supercilious coldness and 
neglect, and evinced, from time to time, a degree of 
interest in other ladies which awakened her jealousy 
and anger. Of all the terrible convulsions to which 
the human soul is subject, there is not one which 
M. of H— 16—7 (97) 



98 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1555 

agitates it more deeply than the tumult of feeling 
produced by the mingling of resentment and love. 
Such a mingling, or, rather, such a conflict, between 
passions apparently inconsistent with each other, is 
generally considered not possible by those who have 
never experienced it. But it is possible. It is possi- 
ble to be stung with a sense of the ingratitude, and 
selfishness, and cruelty of an object, which, after all, 
the heart will persist in clinging to with the fondest 
affection. Vexation and anger, a burning sense of 
injury, and desire for revenge, on the one hand, and 
feelings of love, resistless and uncontrollable, and 
bearing, in their turn, all before them, alternately get 
possession of the soul, harrowing and devastating it 
in their awful conflict, and even sometimes reigning 
over it, for a time, in a temporary but dreadful calm, 
like that of two wrestlers who pause a moment, ex- 
hausted in a mortal combat, but grappling each other 
with deadly energy all the time, while they are taking 
breath for a renewal of the conflict. Queen Mary, in 
one of these paroxysms, seized a portrait of her hus- 
band ^nd tore it into shreds. The reader, who has 
his or her experience in affairs of the heart yet to 
come, will say, perhaps, her love for him then must 
have been all gone. No ; it was at its height. We do 
not tear the portraits of those who are indifferent to us. 
At the beginning of her reign, and, in fact, during 
all the previous periods of her life, Mary had been an 



1555] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 99 

honest and conscientious Catholic. She undoubtedly 
truly believed that the Christian Church ought to 
be banded together in one great communion, with the 
Pope of Rome as its spiritual head, and that her father 
had broken away from this communion — which was, 
in fact, strictly true — merely to obtain a pretext for 
getting released from her mother. How natural, under 
such circumstances, that she should have desired to 
return. She commenced, immediately on her acces- 
sion, a course of measures to bring the nation back 
to the Roman Catholic communion. She managed 
very prudently and cautiously at first — especially while 
the affair of her marriage was pending — seemingly 
very desirous of doing nothing to exasperate those 
who were of the Protestant faith, or even to awaken 
their opposition. After she was married, however, 
her desire to please her Catholic husband, and his 
widely-extended and influential circle of Catholic friends 
on the Continent, made her more eager to press for- 
ward the work of putting down the Reformation in 
England; and as her marriage was now effected, she 
was less concerned about the consequences of any 
opposition which she might excite. Then, besides, 
her temper, never very sweet, was sadly soured by 
her husband's treatment of her. She vented her ill 
will upon those who would not yield to her wishes 
in respect to their religious faith. She caused more 
and more severe laws to be passed, and enforced 



loo QUEEN ELIZABETH [1555 

them by more and more severe penalties. The more 
she pressed these violent measures, the more the 
fortitude and resolution of those who suffered from 
them v^ere aroused. And, on the other hand, the 
more they resisted, the more determined she became 
that she would compel them to submit. She went 
on from one mode of coercion to another, until she 
reached the last possible point, and inflicted the most 
dreadful physical suffering which it is possible for 
man to inflict upon his fellow-man. 

This worst and most terrible injury is to burn the 
living victim in a fire. That a woman could ever 
order this to be done would seem to be incredible. 
Queen Mary, however, and her government were 
so determined to put down, at all hazards, all open 
disaffection to the Catholic cause, that they did not 
give up the contest until they had burned nearly three 
hundred persons by fire, of whom more than fifty 
were women, and four were children / This horrible 
persecution was, however, of no avail. Dissentients 
increased faster than they could be burned ; and such 
dreadful punishments became at last so intolerably 
odious to the nation that they were obliged to desist, 
and then the various ministers of state concerned in 
them attempted to . throw off the blame upon each 
other. The English nation have never forgiven Mary 
for these atrocities. They gave her the name of Bloody 
Mary at the time, and she has retained it to the present 



1557] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE loi 

day. In one of the ancient histories of the realm, at 
the head of the chapter devoted to Mary, there is placed, 
as an appropriate emblem of the character of her 
reign, the picture of a man writhing helplessly at a 
stake, with the flames curling around him, and a fe- 
rocious-looking soldier standing by, stirring up the 
fire. 

The various disappointments, vexations, and trials 
which Mary endured toward the close of her life, 
had one good effect; they softened the animosity 
which she had felt toward Elizabeth, and in the end 
something like a friendship seemed to spring up be- 
tween the sisters. Abandoned by her husband, and 
looked upon with dislike or hatred by her subjects, 
and disappointed in all her plans, she seemed to turn 
at last to Elizabeth for companionship and comfort. 
The sisters visited each other. First Elizabeth went 
to London to visit the queen, and was received with 
great ceremony and parade. Then the queen went 
to Hatfield to visit the princess, attended by a large 
company of ladies and gentlemen of the court, and 
several days were spent there in festivities and re- 
joicings. There were plays in the palace, and a bear- 
baiting in the court-yard, and hunting in the park, 
and many other schemes of pleasure. This renewal 
of friendly intercourse between the queen and the 
princess brought the latter gradually out of her retire- 
ment. Now that the queen began to evince a friendly 



io2 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1557 

spirit toward her, it was safe for others to show her 
kindness and to pay her attention. The disposition 
to do this increased rapidly as Mary's health gradu- 
ally declined, and it began to be understood that she 
would not live long, and that, consequently, Elizabeth 
would soon be called to the throne. 

The war which Mary had been drawn into with 
France, by Philip's threat that he would never see 
her again, proved very disastrous. The town of Cal- 
ais, which is opposite to Dover, across the straits, 
and, of course, on the French side of the channel, 
had been in the possession of the English for two 
hundred years. It was very gratifying to English 
pride to hold possession of such a stronghold on the 
French shore; but now every thing seemed to go 
against Mary. Calais was defended by a citadel nearly 
as large as the town itself, and was deemed impreg- 
nable. In addition to this, an enormous English force 
was concentrated there. The French general, how- 
ever, contrived, partly by stratagem, and partly by 
overpowering numbers of troops, and ships, and bat- 
teries of cannon, to get possession of the whole. The 
English nation were indignant at this result. Their 
queen and her government, so energetic in imprison- 
ing and burning her own subjects at home, were pow- 
erless, it seemed, in coping with their enemies abroad. 
Murmurs of dissatisfaction were heard every where, 
and Mary sank down upon her sick bed overwhelmed 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 103 

with disappointment, vexation, and chagrin. She said 
that she should die, and that if, after her death, they 
examined her body, they would find Calais like a 
load upon her heart. 

In the mean time, it must have been Elizabeth's 
secret wish that she would die, since her death would 
release the princess from all the embarrassments and 
restraints of her position, and raise her at once to the 
highest pinnacle of honor and power. She remained, 
however, quietly at Hatfield, acting in all things in a 
very discreet and cautious manner. At one time she 
received proposals from the King of Sweden that she 
would accept of his son as her husband. She asked 
the embassador if he had communicated the affair to 
Mary. On his reply that he had not, EHzabeth said 
that she could not entertain at all any such question, 
unless her sister were first consulted and should give 
her approbation. She acted on the same principles in 
every thing, being very cautious to give Mary and 
her government no cause of complaint against her, 
and willing to wait patiently until her own time 
should come. , 

Though Mary's disappointments and losses filled 
her mind with anguish and suffering, they did not 
soften her heart. She seemed to grow more cruel 
and vindictive the more her plans and projects failed. 
Adversity vexed and irritated, instead of calming and 
subduing her. She revived her persecutions of the 



I04 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1558 

Protestants. She fitted out a fleet of a hundred and 
twenty ships to make a descent upon the French coast, 
and attempt to retrieve her fallen fortunes there. She 
called Parliament together and asked for more supplies. 
All this time she was confined to her sick chamber, 
but not considered in danger. The Parliament were 
debating the question of supplies. Her privy council 
were holding daily meetings to carry out the plans 
and schemes which she still continued to form, and 
all was excitement and bustle in and around the court, 
when one day the council was thunderstruck by an 
announcement that she was dying. 

They knew very well that her death would be a 
terrible blow to them. They were all Catholics, and 
had been Mary's instruments in the terrible persecu- 
tions with which she had oppressed the Protestant 
faith. With Mary's death, of course they would fall. 
A Protestant princess was ready, at Hatfield, to as- 
cend the throne. Every thing would be changed, and 
there was even danger that they might, in their turn, 
be sent to the stake, in retaliation for the cruelties 
which they had caused others to suffer. They made 
arrangements to have Mary's death, whenever it 
should take place, concealed for a few hours, till they 
could consider what they should do. 

There was nothing that they could do. There was 
now no other considerable claimant to the throne but 
Elizabeth, except Mary Queen of Scots, who was far 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 105 

away in France. She was a Catholic, it was true; but 
to bring her into the country and place her upon the 
throne seemed to be a hopeless undertaking. Queen 
Mary's counselors soon found that they must give up 
their cause in despair. Any attempt to resist Eliza- 
beth's claims would be high treason, and, of course, 
if unsuccessful, would bring the heads of all con- 
cerned in it to the block. 

Besides, it was not certain that Elizabeth would 
act decidedly as a Protestant. She had been very 
prudent and cautious during Mary's reign, and had 
been very careful never to manifest any hostility to 
the Catholics. She never had acted as Mary had done 
on the occasion of her brother's funeral, when she 
refused to countenance with her presence the national 
service because it was under Protestant forms. Eliza- 
beth had always accompanied Mary to mass when- 
ever occasion required ; she had always spoken respect- 
fully of the Catholic faith; and once she asked Mary 
to lend her some Catholic books, in order that she 
might inform herself more fully on the subject of the 
principles of the Roman faith. It is true, she acted 
thus, not because there was any real leaning in her 
mind toward the Catholic religion; it was all merely 
a wise and sagacious policy. Surrounded by difficul- 
ties and dangers as she was, during Mary's reign, her 
only hope of safety was in passing as quietly as pos- 
sible along, and managing warily, so as to keep the 



io6 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1558 

hostility which was burning secretly against her from 
breaking out into an open flame. This was her ob- 
ject in retiring so miich from the court and from all 
participation in public affairs, in avoiding all religious 
and political contests, and spending her time in the 
study of Greek, and Latin, and philosophy. The con- 
sequence was, that when Mary died, nobody knew cer- 
tainly what course Elizabeth would pursue. Nobody 
had any strong motive for opposing her succession. 
The council, therefore, after a short consultation, con- 
cluded to do nothing but simply to send a message 
to the House of Lords, announcing to them the un- 
expected death of the queen. 

The House of Lords, on receiving this intelligence, 
sent for the Commons to come into their hall, as is 
usual when any important communication is to be 
made to them either by the Lords themselves or by 
the sovereign. The chancellor, who is the highest 
civil officer of the kingdom, in respect to rank, and 
who presides in the House of Lords, clothed in a 
magnificent antique costume, then rose and announced 
to the Commons, standing before him, the death of 
the sovereign. There was a moment's solemn pause, 
such as propriety on the occasion of an announcement 
like this required, all thoughts being, too, for a mo- 
ment turned to the chamber where the body of the 
departed queen was lying. But the sovereignty was 
no longer there. The mysterious principle had fled 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 107 

with the parting breath, and Elizabeth, though wholly 
unconscious of it, had been for Several hours the queen. 
The thoughts, therefore, of the august and solemn as- 
sembly lingered but for a moment in the royal pal- 
ace, which had now lost all its glory; they soon turned 
spontaneously, and with eager haste, to the new sove- 
reign at Hatfield, and the lofty arches of the Parlia- 
ment hall rung with loud acclamations, **God save 
Queen Elizabeth, and grant her a long and happy 
reign." 

The members of the Parliament went forth immedi- 
ately to proclaim the new queen. There are two prin- 
cipal places where it was then customary to proclaim 
the English sovereigns. One of these was before the 
royal palace at Westminster, and the other in the city 
of London, at a very public place called the Great Cross 
at Cheapside. The people assembled in great crowds 
at these points to witness the ceremony, and received 
the announcement which the heralds made with the 
most ardent expressions of joy. The bells were every 
where rung; tables were spread in the streets, and 
booths erected, bonfires and illuminations were pre- 
pared for the evening, and every thing, indicated a 
deep and universal joy. 

In fact, this joy was so strongly expressed as to be 
even in some degree disrespectful to the memory of 
the departed queen. There is a famous ancient Latin 
hymn which has long been sung in England and on 



io8 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1558 

the Continent of Europe on occasions of great public 
rejoicing. It is called4 the Te Deum, or sometimes the 
Te Deum Laudamus. These last are the three Latin 
words with which the hymn commences, and mean, 
Thee, God, we praise. They sang the 7e Deum in 
the churches of London on the Sunday after Mary 
died. 

In the mean time, messengers from the council pro- 
ceeded with all speed to Hatfield, to announce to 
Elizabeth the death of her sister, and her own acces- 
sion to the sovereign power. The tidings, of course, 
filled Elizabeth's mind with the deepest emotions. 
The oppressive sense of constraint and danger which 
she had endured as her daily burden for so many 
years, was lifted suddenly from her soul. She could 
not but rejoice, though she was too much upon her 
guard to express her joy. She was overwhelmed 
with a profound agitation, and, kneeling down, she 
exclaimed in Latin, "It is the Lord's doing, and it is 
wonderful in our eyes." 

Several of the members of Mary's privy council 
repaired immediately to Hatfield. The queen sum- 
moned them to attend her, and in their presence ap- 
pointed her chief secretary of state. His name was 
Sir William Cecil. He was a man of great learning 
and ability, and he remained in office under Elizabeth 
for forty years. He became her chief adviser and in- 
strument, an able, faithful, and indefatigable servant 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 109 

and friend during almost the whole of her reign. 
His name is accordingly indissolubly connected with 
that of Elizabeth in all the political events which oc- 
curred while she continued upon the throne, and it 
will, in consequence, very frequently occur in the se- 
quel of this history. He was now about forty years 
of age. Elizabeth was twenty-five. 

Elizabeth had known Cecil long before. He had 
been a faithful and true friend to her in her adversity. 
He had been, in many cases, a confidential adviser, 
and had maintained a secret correspondence with her 
in certain trying periods of her life. She had re- 
solved, doubtless, to make him her chief secretary of 
state so soon as she should succeed to the throne. 
And now that the time had arrived, she instated him 
solemnly in his office. In so doing, she pronounced, 
in the hearing of the other members of the council, 
the following charge: 

"1 give you this charge that you shall be of my 
privy council, and content yourself to take pains for 
me and my realm. This judgment I have of you, 
that you will not be corrupted with any gift; and 
that you will be faithful to the state; and that, with- 
out respect of my private will, you will give me 
that counsel that you think best; and that, if you 
shall know any thing necessary to be declared to me 
of secrecy you shall show it to myself only; and as- 



no QUEEN ELIZABETH [1558 

sure yourself I will not fail to keep taciturnity therein. 
And therefore herewith I charge you." 

It was about a week after the death of Mary be- 
fore the arrangements were completed for Elizabeth's 
journey to London, to take possession of the castles 
and palaces which pertain there to the English sover- 
eigns. She was followed on this journey by a train 
of about a thousand attendants, all nobles or person- 
ages of high rank, both gentlemen and ladies. She 
went first to a palace called the Charter House, near 
London, where she stopped until preparations could 
be made for her formal and public entrance into the 
Tower; not, as before, through the Traitors' Gate, a 
prisoner, but openly, through the grand entrance, in 
the midst of acclamations, as the proud and applauded 
sovereign of the mighty realm whose capital the an- 
cient fortress was stationed to defend. The streets 
through which the gorgeous procession was to pass 
were spread with fine, smooth gravel; bands of musi- 
cians were stationed at intervals, and decorated arches, 
and banners, and flags, with countless devices of loy- 
alty and welcome, and waving handkerchiefs, greeted 
her all the way. Heralds and other great officers, mag- 
nificently dressed, and mounted on horses richly ca- 
parisoned, rode before her, announcing her approach, 
with trumpets and proclamations; while she followed 
in the train, mounted upon a beautiful horse, the object 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE iit 

of universal homage. Thus Elizabeth entered the 
Tower; and inasmuch as forgetting her friends is a 
fault with which she can not justly be charged, we 
may hope, at least, that one of the first acts which she 
performed, after getting established in the royal apart- 
ments, was to send for and reward the kind-hearted 
child who had been reprimanded for bringing her the 
flowers. 

The coronation, when the time arrived for it, was 
very splendid. The queen went in state in a sump- 
tuous chariot, preceded by trumpeters and heralds in 
armor, and accompanied by a long train of noblemen, 
barons, and gentlemen, and also of ladies, all most 
richly dressed in crimson velvet, the trappings of the 
horses being of the same material. The people of 
London thronged all the streets through which she 
was to pass, and [made the air resound with shouts 
and acclamations. There were triumphal arches erected 
here and there on the way, with a great variety of odd 
and quaint devices, and a child stationed upon each, 
who explained the devices to Elizabeth as she passed, 
in English verse, written for the occasion. One of 
these pageants was entitled **The Seat of Worthy 
Governance." There was a throne, supported by fig- 
ures which represented the cardinal virtues, such as 
Piety, Wisdom, Temperance, Industry, Truth, and be- 
neath their feet were the opposite vices, Superstition, 
Ignorance, Intemperance, Idleness, and Falsehood: these 



112 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1558 

the virtues were trampling upon. On the throne was 
a representation of Elizabeth. At one place were eight 
personages dressed to represent the eight beatitudes 
pronounced by our Savior in His Sermon on the Mount 
— the meek, the merciful, etc. Each of these quahties 
was ingeniously ascribed to Elizabeth. This could be 
done with much more propriety then than in subse- 
quent years. In another place, an ancient figure, rep- 
resenting Time, came out of a cave which had been 
artificially constructed with great ingenuity, leading his 
daughter whose name was Truth. Truth had an Eng- 
lish Bible in her hands, which she presented to Eliza- 
beth as she passed. This had a great deal of meaning ; 
for the Catholic government of Mary had discour- 
aged the circulation of the Scriptures in the vernacular 
tongue. When the procession arrived in the middle 
of the city, some officers of the city government ap- 
proached the queen's chariot, and delivered to her a 
present of a very large and heavy purse filled with 
gold. The queen had to employ both hands in Hfting 
it in. It contained an amount equal in value to two 
or three thousand dollars. 

The queen was very affable and gracious to all 
the people on the way. Poor women would come 
up to her carriage and offer her flowers, which she 
would very condescendingly accept. Several times 
she stopped her carriage, when she saw that any one 
wished to speak with her, or had something to offer ; 



1558] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 113 

and so great was the exaltation of a queen in those 
days, in the estimation of mankind, that these acts 
were considered, by all the humble citizens of London, 
as acts of very extraordinary affability, and they awak- 
ened universal enthusiasm. There was one branch of 
rosemary, given to the queen by a poor woman in 
Fleet Street ; the queen put it up conspicuously in 
the carriage, where it remained all the way, watched 
by ten thousand eyes, till it got to Westminster. 

The coronation took place at Westminster on the 
following day. The crown was placed upon the young 
maiden's head in the midst of a great throng of ladies 
and gentlemen, who were all superbly dressed, and 
who made the vast edifice in which the service was 
performed ring with their acclamations, and their shouts 
of "Long live the Queen!" During the ceremonies, 
Elizabeth placed a wedding ring upon her finger with 
great formality, to denote that she considered the occa- 
sion as the celebration of her espousal to the realm of 
England ; she was that day a bride, and should never ^ 
have, she said, any other husband. She kept this, 
the only wedding ring she ever wore, upon her fin- 
ger, without once removing it, for more than forty 
years. 

M. of H.— 16-8 



CHAPTER VII. 

The War in Scotland. 

Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots.— Their rivalry.— Character of Mary. 

— Character of Elizabeth.- Elizabeth's celebrity while living. — Inter- 
est in Mary when dead. — Real nature of the question at issue between 
Mary and Elizabeth.— The two marriages. — One or the'other necessarily 
null.— Views of Mary's friends.— Views of Elizabeth's friends. — Circum- 
stances of Henry the Eighth's first marriage. — The papal dispensation. 

— Doubts about it. — England turns Protestant. — The marriage annulled. 

— Mary in France. — She becomes Queen of France. — Mary's pretensions 
to the English crown. — Elizabeth's fears. — Measures of Elizabeth. 

— Progress of Protestantism in Scotland. — Difficulties in Scotland.— 
Elizabeth's interference. — Fruitless negotiations. — The war goes on. 

— The French shut up in I^eith. — Situation of the town. — The English 
victorious.— The Treaty of Edinburgh — Mary refuses to ratify it. — Death 
of Mary's husband.. — She returns to Scotland. 

QUEEN Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots are 
strongly associated together in the minds 
^^of ail readers of English history. They were 
contemporary sovereigns, reigning at the same time 
over sister kingdoms. They were cousins, and yet, 
precisely on account of the family relationship which 
existed between them, they became implacable foes. 
The rivalry and hostility, sometimes open and some- 
times concealed, was always in action, and, after a 
contest of more than twenty years, Elizabeth tri- 
umphed. She made Mary her prisoner, kept her 
many years a captive, and at last closed the contest 
(114) 



1559] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 115 

by commanding, or at least allowing, her fallen rival 
to be beheaded. 

Thus Elizabeth had it all her own way, while the 
scenes of her life and of Mary's were transpiring, but 
since that time mankind have generally sympathized 
most strongly with the conquered one, and condemned 
the conqueror. There are several reasons for this, 
and among them is the vast influence exerted by the 
difference In the personal character of the parties. 
Mary was beautiful, feminine in spirit, and lovely. 
Elizabeth was talented, masculine, and plain. Mary 
was artless, unaffected, and gentle. Elizabeth was 
heartless, intriguing, and insincere. With Mary, 
though her ruling principle was ambition, her ruling 
passion was love. Her love led her to great trans- 
gressions and into many sorrows, but mankind par- 
don the sins and pity the sufferings which are caused 
by love more readily than those of any other origin. 
With Elizabeth, ambition was the ruling principle, and 
the ruling passion too. Love, with her, was only a 
pastime. Her transgressions were the cool, deliberate, 
well-considered acts of selfishness and desire of 
power. During her lifetime her success secured her 
the applauses of the world. The world is always 
ready to glorify the greatness which rises visibly be- 
fore it, and to forget sufferings, which are meekly and 
patiently born in seclusion and solitude. Men praised 
and honored Elizabeth, therefore, while she lived, and 



ii6 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1559 

neglected Mary. But since the halo and the fascination 
of the visible greatness and glory have passed away, 
they have found a far greater charm in Mary's beauty and 
misfortune than in her great rival's pride and power. 
There is often thus a great difference in the com- 
parative interest we take in persons or scenes, when, 
on the one hand, they are realities before our eyes, 
and when, on the other, they are only imaginings 
which are brought to our minds by pictures or 
descriptions. The hardships which it was very 
disagreeable or painful to bear, afford often great 
amusement or pleasure in the recollection. The old 
broken gate which a gentleman would not tolerate 
an hour upon his grounds, is a great beauty in the 
picture which hangs in his parlor. We shun poverty 
and distress while they are actually existing; nothing 
is more disagreeable to us; and we gaze upon pros- 
perity and wealth with never-ceasing pleasure. But 
when they are gone, and we have only the tale to 
hear, it is the story of sorrow and suffering which 
possesses the charm. Thus it happened that when 
the two queens were living realities, Elizabeth was 
the center of attraction and the object oi universal 
homage; but when they came to be themes of his- 
tory, all eyes and hearts began soon to turn instinc- 
tively to Mary. It was London, and Westminster, and 
Kenilworth, that possessed the interest while Elizabeth 
lived, but it is Holyrood and Loch Leven now. 



1559] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 117 

It results from these causes that Mary's story is 
read far more frequently than Elizabeth's, and this op- 
erates still further to the advantage of the former, for 
we are always prone to take sides with the heroine 
of the tale we are reading. All these considerations, 
which have had so much influence on the judgment 
men form, or, rather, on the feeling to which they 
incline in this famous contest, have, it must be con- 
fessed, very little to do with the true merits of the 
case. And if we make a serious attempt to lay all 
such considerations aside, and to look into the con- 
troversy with cool and rigid impartiality, we shall 
find it very difficult to arrive at any satisfactory con- 
clusion. There are two questions to be decided. In 
advancing their conflicting claims to the English 
crown, was it Elizabeth or Mary that was in the 
right? If Elizabeth was right, were the measures 
which she resorted to to secure her own rights, and 
to counteract Mary's pretensions, politically justifiable? 
We do not propose to add our own to the hundred 
decisions which various writers have given to this 
question, but only to narrate the facts, and leave each 
reader to come to his own conclusions. 

The foundation of the long and dreadful quarrel 
between these royal cousins was, as has been already 
remarked, their consanguinity, which made them both 
competitors for the same throne; and as that throne 
was, in some respects, the highest and most power- 



ii8 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1559 

ful in the world, it is not surprising that two such 
ambitious women should be eager and persevering in 
their contest for it. By turning to the genealogical 
table on page 55, where a view is presented of the 
royal family of England in the time of Elizabeth, the 
reader will see once more what was the precise re- 
lationship which the two queens bore to each other 
and to the succession. By this table it is very evident 
that Elizabeth was the true inheritor of the crown, 
provided it were admitted that she was the lawful 
daughter and heir of King Henry the Eighth, and this 
depended on the question of the validity of her 
father's marriage with his first wife, Catharine of Ara- 
gon; for, as has been before said, he was married to 
Anne Boleyn before obtaining any thing Hke a di- 
vorce from Catharine; consequently, the marriage 
with EHzabeth's mother could not be legally valid, 
unless that with Catharine had been void from the 
beginning. The friends of Mary Queen of Scots 
maintained that it was not thus void, and that, con- 
sequently, the marriage with Anne Boleyn was null; 
that Elizabeth, therefore, the descendant of the mar- 
riage, was not, legally and technically, a daughter of 
Henry the Eighth, and, consequently, not entitled to 
inherit his crown; and that the crown, of right, ought 
to descend to the next heir, that is, to Mary Queen 
of Scots herself. 

Queen Elizabeth's friends and partisans maintained, 



1559] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 119 

on the other hand, that the marriage of King Henry 
with Catharine was null and void from the begin- 
ning, because Catharine had been before the wife of 
his brother. The circumstances of this marriage were 
very curious and peculiar. It was his father's work, 
and not his own. His father was King Henry the 
Seventh. Henry the Seventh had several children, 
and among them were his two oldest sons, Arthur 
and Henry. When Arthur was about sixteen years 
old, his father, being very much in want of money, 
conceived the plan of replenishing his coffers by mar- 
rying his son to a rich wife. He accordingly con- 
tracted a marriage between him and Catharine of 
Aragon, Catharine's father agreeing to pay him two 
hundred thousand crowns as her dowry. The juve- 
nile bridegroom enjoyed the honors and pleasures of 
married life for a few months, and then died. 

This event was a great domestic calamity to the 
king, not because he mourned the loss of his son, 
but that he could not bear the idea of the loss of 
the dowry. By the law and usage in such cases, he 
was bound not only to forego the payment of the 
other half of the dowry, but he had himself no right 
to retain the half that he had already received. While 
his son lived, being a minor, the father might, not 
improperly, hold the money in his son's name; but 
when he died this right ceased, and as Arthur left no 
child, Henry perceived that he should be obliged to 



I20 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1559 

pay back the money. To avoid this unpleasant ne- 
cessity, the king conceived the plan of marrying the 
youthful widow again to his second boy, Henry, who 
was about a year younger than Arthur, and he made 
proposals to this effect to the King of Aragon. 

The King of Aragon made no objections to this 
proposal, except that it was a thing unheard of among 
Christian nations, or heard of only to be condemned, 
for a man or even a boy to marry his brother's 
widow. All laws, human and divine, were clear and 
absolute against this. Still, if the dispensation of the 
pope could.be obtained, he would make no objection. 
Catharine might espouse the second boy, and he would 
allow the one hundred thousand crowns already 
paid to stand, and would also pay the other hun- 
dred thousand. The dispensation was accordingly 
obtained, and every thing made ready for the mar- 
riage. 

Very soon after this, however, and before the new 
marriage was carried into effect. King Henry the Sev- 
enth died, and this second boy, now the oldest son, 
though only about seventeen years of age, ascended the 
throne as King Henry the Eighth. There was great dis- 
cussion and debate, soon after his accession, whether 
the marriage which his father had arranged should pro- 
ceed. Some argued that no papal dispensation could 
authorize or justify such a marriage. Others maintained 
that a papal dispensation could legalize any thing; for 



1559] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 121 

it is a doctrine of the Catholic Church that the pope has 
a certain discretionary power over all laws, human and 
divine, under the authority given to* his great prede- 
cessor, the Apostle Peter, by the words of Christ: 
"Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound 
in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth 
shall be loosed in heaven."* Henry seems not to have 
puzzled his head at all with the legal question; he 
wanted to have the young widow for his wife, and 
he settled the affair on that ground alone. They were 

married. 

Catharine was a faithful and dutiful spouse; but 
when, at last, Henry fell in love with Anne Boleyn, 
he made these old difficulties a pretext for discarding 
her. He endeavored, as has been already related, to 
induce the papal authorities to annul their dispensa- 
tion; because they would not do it, he espoused the 
Protestant cause, and England, as a nation, seceded 
from the Catholic communion. The ecclesiastical and 
parliamentary authorities of his own realm then, be- 
ing made Protestant, annulled the marriage, and thus 
Anne Boleyn, to whom he had previously been mar- 
ried by a private ceremony, became legally and tech- 
nically his wife. If this annulling of his first marriage 
were valid, then Elizabeth was his heir — otherwise 
not; for if the pope's dispensation was to stand, then 
Catharine was a wife. Anne Boleyn would in that 
* Matthew, xvi., 19. 



122 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1550 

case, of course, have been only a companion, and 
Elizabeth, claiming through her, a usurper. 

The question, thus, was very complicated. It 
branched into extensive ramifications, which opened 
a wide field of debate, and led to endless contro- 
versies. It is not probable, however, that Mary 
Queen of Scots, or her friends, gave themselves much 
trouble about the legal points at issue. She and they 
were all Cathohcs, and it was sufficient for them to 
know that the Holy Father at Rome had sanctioned 
the marriage of Catharine, and that that marriage, if 
allowed to stand, made her the Queen of England. 
She was at this time in France. She had been sent 
there at a very early period of her life, to escape the 
troubles of her native land, and also to be educated. 
She was a gentle and beautiful child, and as she 
grew up amid the gay scenes and festivities of Paris, 
she became a very great favorite, being universally 
beloved. She married at length, though while she 
was still quite young, the son of the French king. 
Her young husband became king himself soon after- 
ward, on account of his father being killed in a 
very remarkable manner, at a tournament; and thus 
Mary, Queen of Scots before, became also Queen of 
France now. All these events, passed over thus very 
summarily here, are narrated in full detail in the His- 
tory of Mary Queen of Scots, pertaining to this series. 

While Mary was thus residing in France as the 



^559'] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 123 

wife of the king, she was surrounded by a very large 
and influential circle, who were Catholics like her- 
self, and who were also enemies of Elizabeth and of 
England, and glad to find any pretext for disturbing 
her reign. These persons brought forward Mary's 
claim. They persuaded Mary that she was fairly en- 
titled to the English crown. They awakened her 
youthful ambition, and excited strong desires in her 
heart to attain to the high elevation of Queen of 
England. Mary at length assumed the title in some 
of her official acts, and combined the arms of England 
with those of Scotland in the escutcheons with which 
her furniture and her plate were emblazoned. 

When Queen Elizabeth learned that Mary was ad- 
vancing such pretensions to her crown, she was made 
very uneasy by it. There was, perhaps, no immedi- 
ate danger, but then there was a very large Catholic 
party in England, and they would naturally espouse 
Mary's cause, and they might, at some future time, 
gather strength so as to make Elizabeth a great deal 
of trouble. She accordingly sent an embassador over 
to France to remonstrate against Mary's advancing 
these pretensions. But she could get no satisfactory 
reply. Mary would not disavow her claim to Eliza- 
beth's crown, nor would she directly assert it. Eliza- 
beth, then, knowing that all her danger lay in the 
power and influence of her own Catholic subjects, 
went to work, very cautiously and warily, but in a 



124 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1559 

very extended and efficient way, to establish the Ref- 
ormation, and to undermine and destroy all traces of 
Catholic power. She proceeded in this work with 
great circumspection, so as not to excite opposition 
or alarm. 

In the mean time, the Protestant cause was mak- 
ing progress in Scotland too, by its own inherent en- 
ergies, and against the influence of the government. 
Finally, the Scotch Protestants organized themselves, 
and commenced an open rebellion against the regent 
whom Mary had left in power while she was away. 
They sent to Elizabeth to come and aid them. Mary 
and her friends in France sent French troops to assist 
the government. Ehzabeth hesitated very much 
whether to comply with the request of the rebels. It 
is very dangerous for a sovereign to countenance re- 
bellion in any way. Then she shrank, too, from the 
expense which she foresaw that such an attempt 
would involve. To fit out a fleet and to levy and 
equip an army, and to continue the forces thus raised 
in action, during a long and uncertain campaign, 
would cost a large sum of money, and Elizabeth was 
constitutionally economical and frugal. But then, on 
the other hand, as she deliberated upon the affair long 
and anxiously, both alone and with her council, she 
thought that, if she should so far succeed as to get 
the government of Scotland into her power, she could 
compel Mary to renounce forever all claims to the 



1560] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 125 

English crown, by threatening her, if she would not 
do it, with the loss of her own. 

Finally she decided on making the attempt. Cecil, 
her wise and prudent counselor, strongly advised it. 
He said it was far better to carry on the contest with 
Mary and the French in one of their countries than 
in her own. She began to make preparations. Mary 
and the French government, on learning this, were 
alarmed in their turn. They sent word to Elizabeth 
that for her to render countenance and aid to rebels 
in arms against their sovereign, in a sister kingdom, 
was wholly unjustifiable, and they remonstrated most 
earnestly against it. Besides making this remonstrance, 
they offered, as an inducement of another kind, that 
if she would refrain from taking any part in the con- 
test in Scotland, they would restore to her the great 
town and citadel of Calais, which her sister had 
been so much grieved to lose. To this Elizabeth re- 
plied that, so long as Mary adhered to her pretensions 
to the English crown, she should be compelled to take 
energetic measures to protect herself from them; and 
as to Calais, the possession of a fishing town on a 
foreign coast was of no moment to her in compari- 
son with the peace and security of her own realm. 
This answer did not tend to close the breach. Be- 
sides the bluntness of the refusal of their offer, the 
French were irritated and vexed to hear their famous 
sea-port spoken of so contemptuously. 



126 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

Elizabeth accordingly fitted out a fleet and an 
army, and sent them northward. A French fleet, with 
re-enforcements for Mary's adherents in this contest, 
set sail from France at about the same time. It was 
a very important question to be determined which of 
these two fleets should get first upon the stage of 
action. 

In the mean time, the Protestant party in Scotland, 
or the rebels, as Queen Mary and her government 
called them, had had very hard work to maintain 
their ground. There was a large French force al- 
ready there, and their co-operation and aid made the 
government too strong for the insurgents to resist. 
But, when Elizabeth's EngHsh army crossed the 
frontier, the face of affairs was changed. The French 
forces retreated in their turn. The English army ad- 
vanced. The Scotch Protestants came forth from the 
recesses of the Highlands to which they had retreated, 
and, drawing closer and closer around the French and 
the government forces, they hemmed them in more 
and more narrowly, and at last shut them up in the 
ancient town of Leith, to which they retreated in 
search of a temporary shelter, until the French fleet, 
with re-enforcements, should arrive. 

The town of Leith is on the shore of the Firth of 
Forth, not far from Edinburgh. It is the port or 
landing-place of Edinburgh, in approaching it from 
the sea. It is on the southern shore of the firth, and 



1560] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 127 

Edinburgh stands on higher land, about two miles 
south of it. Leith was strongly fortified in those days, 
and the French army felt very secure there, though 
yet anxiously awaiting the arrival of the fleet which 
was to release them. The English army advanced in 
the mean time, eager to get possession of the city 
before the expected succor should arrive. The Eng- 
lish made an assault upon the walls. The French, 
with desperate bravery, repelled it. The French made 
a sortie; that is, they rushed out of a sudden and 
attacked the English lines. The English concentrated 
their forces at the point attacked, and drove them 
back again. These struggles continued, both sides 
very eager for victory, and both watching all the 
time for the appearance of a fleet in the offing. 

At length, one day, a cloud of white sails ap- 
peared rounding the point of land which forms the 
southern boundary of the firth, and the French were 
thrown at once into the highest state of exultation 
and excitement. But this pleasure was soon turned 
into disappointment and chagrin by finding that it 
was Elizabeth's fleet and not theirs, which was 
coming into view. This ended the contest. The 
French fleet never arrived. It was dispersed and de- 
stroyed by a storm. The besieged army sent out a 
flag of truce, proposing to suspend hostilities until 
the terms of a treaty could be agreed upon. The 
truce was granted. Commissioners were appointed 



128 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

on each side. These commissioners met at Edin- 
burgh, and agreed upon the terms of a permanent 
peace. The treaty, which is called in history the 
Treaty of Edinburgh, was solemnly signed by the 
commissioners appointed to make it, and then trans- 
mitted to England and to France to be ratified by 
the respective queens. Queen Elizabeth's forces and 
the French forces were then both, as the treaty pro- 
vided, immediately withdrawn. The dispute, too, be- 
tween the Protestants and the Catholics in Scotland was 
also settled, though it is not necessary for our purpose 
in this narrative to explain particularly in what way. 

There was one point, however, in the stipulations 
of this treaty which is of essential importance in 
this narrative, and that is, that it was agreed that 
Mary should relinquish all claims whatever to the 
English crown so long as Elizabeth lived. This, 
in fact, was the essential point in the whole trans- 
action. Mary, it is true, was not present to agree to 
it; but the commissioners agreed to it in her name, 
and it was stipulated that Mary should solemnly rat- 
ify the treaty as soon as it could be sent to her. 

But Mary would not ratify it, — at least so far as 
this last article was concerned. She said that she 
had no intention of doing any thing to molest EHza- 
beth in her possession of the throne, but that as to 
herself, whatever rights might legally and justly be- 
long to her, she could not consent to sign them 



1560] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 129 

away. The other articles of the treaty had, however, 
in the mean time, brought the war to a close, and 
both the French and English armies were withdrawn. 
Neither party had any inclination to renew the con- 
flict; but yet, so far as the great question between 
Mary and Elizabeth was concerned, the difficulty was 
as far from being settled as ever. In fact, it was in 
a worse position than before; for, in addition to her 
other grounds of complaint against -Mary, Elizabeth 
now charged her with dishonorably refusing to be 
bound by a compact which had been solemnly made 
in her name, by agents whom she had fully author- 
ized to make it. 

It was about this time that Mary's husband, the 
King of France, died, and, after enduring various trials 
and troubles in France, Mary concluded to return to 
her own realm. She sent to Elizabeth to get a safe- 
conduct — a sort of permission allowing her to pass 
unmolested through the English seas. Ehzabeth re- 
fused to grant it unless Mary would first ratify the 
Treaty of Edinburgh. This Mary would not do, but 
undertook, rather, to get home without the permis- 
sion. Elizabeth sent ships to intercept her; but 
Mary's little squadron, when they approached the 
shore, were hidden by a fog, and so she got safe to 
land. After this there was quiet between Mary and 
Elizabeth for many years, but no peace. 

M. of H.— 16— 9 



CHAPTER VIII. 
Elizabeth's Lovers. 

Claimants to the throne.— General character of Elizabeth's reign.— Eliza- 
beth's suitors.— Their motives. — Philip of Spain proposes,— His strange 
conduct.— Elizabeth declines Philip's proposal. — Her reasons for so do- 
ing. — The English people wish Elizabeth to be married. — Petition of 
the Parliament. — Elizabeth's "gracious" reply. — Elizabeth attacked 
with the small-pox.— Alarm of the country.— The Earl of I^eicester. — His 
character.— Services of Cecil,— Elizabeth's attachment to I^eicester.— 
I,eicester's wife. — Her mysterious death. — I^eicester hated by the peo- 
ple.— Various rumors.— The torch-light conversation, — The servant's 
quarrel, — Splendid style of living. — Public ceremonies. — Elizabeth 
recommends I^eicester to Mary Queen of Scots,— Mary marries Darn- 
ley.— Elizabeth's visit to Kenilworth.— I^eicester's marriage.— Eliza- 
beth sends him to prison.— Prosperity of Elizabeth's reign.— The Duke 
of An jou.— Catharine de Medici.— She proposes her son to Elizabeth.— 
Quarrels of the favorites.— The shot.— The people oppose the match.— 
The arrangements completed.— The match broken off,— The Duke's 
rage.— The Duke's departure,— The farewell. 

ELIZABETH was HOW securely established upon her 
throne. It is true that Mary Queen of Scots 
had not renounced her pretensions, but there 
was no immediate prospect of her making any at- 
tempt to realize them, and very little hope for her that 
she would be successful if she were to undertake it. 
There were other claimants, it is true, but their claims 
were more remote and doubtful than Mary's. These 
conflicting pretensions were likely to make the country 
some trouble after Elizabeth's death, but there was 
(130) 



1560] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 131 

very slight probability that they would sensibly molest 
Elizabeth's possession of the throne during her life- 
time, though they caused her no little anxiety. 

The reign which Elizabeth thus commenced was 
one of the longest, most brilliant, and, in many re- 
spects, the most prosperous in the whole series pre- 
sented to our view in the long succession of English 
sovereigns. Elizabeth continued a queen for forty- 
five years, during all which time she remained a sin- 
gle lady; and she died, at last, a venerable maiden, 
seventy years of age. 

It was not for want of lovers, or, rather of ad- 
mirers and suitors, that Elizabeth lived single all her 
days. During the first twenty years of her reign, one 
half of her history is a history of matrimonial schemes 
and negotiations. It seemed as if all the marriageable 
princes and potentates of Europe were seized, one 
after another, with a desire to share her seat upon 
the English throne. They tried every possible means 
to win her consent. They dispatched embassadors; 
they opened long negotiations; they sent her ship- 
loads of the most expensive presents; some of the no- 
bles of high rank in her own realm expended their 
vast estates, and reduced themselves to poverty, in 
vain attempts to please her. Elizabeth, like any other 
woman, loved these attentions. They pleased her 
vanity, and gratified those instinctive impulses of the 
female heart by which woman is fitted for happiness 



132 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

and love. Elizabeth encouraged the hopes of those 
who addressed her sufficiently to keep them from 
giving up in despair and abandoning her. And in one 
or two cases she seemed to come very near yielding. 
But it always happened that, when the time arrived in 
which a final decision must be made, ambition and 
desire of power proved stronger than love, and she 
preferred continuing to occupy her lofty position by 
herself, alone. 

Philip of Spain, the husband of her sister Mary, 
was the first of these suitors. He had seen Elizabeth 
a good deal in England during his residence there, 
and had even taken her part in her difficulties with 
Mary, and had exerted his influence to have her re- 
leased from her confinement. As soon as Mary died 
and Elizabeth Was proclaimed, one of her first acts 
was, as was very proper, to send an embassador to 
Flanders to inform the bereaved husband of his loss. 
It is a curious illustration of the degree and kind of 
affection that Philip had borne to his departed wife, 
that immediately on receiving intelligence of her death 
by EHzabeth's embassador, he sent a special dispatch 
to his own embassador in London to make a propo- 
sal to Elizabeth to take him for her husband! 

EHzabeth decided very soon to decline this propo- 
sal. She had ostensible reasons, and real reasons for 
this. The chief ostensible reason was, that Philip 
was so inveterately hated by all the English people, 



1560] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 133 

and Elizabeth was extremely desirous of being popu- 
lar. She relied solely on the loyalty and faithfulness 
of her Protestant subjects to maintain her rights to 
the succession, and she knew that if she displeased 
them by such an unpopular Catholic marriage, her 
reliance upon them must be very much weakened. 
They might even abandon her entirely. The reason, 
therefore, that she assigned publicly was, that Philip 
was a Catholic, and that the connection could not, 
on that account, be agreeable to the English people.* 

Among the real reasons was one of a very pecu- 
liar nature. It happened that there was an objection 
to her marriage with Philip similar to the one urged 
against that of Henry with Catharine of Aragon. 
Catharine had been the wife of Henry's brother, Philip 
had been the husband of Elizabeth's sister. Now 
Philip had offered to procure the pope's dispensation, 
by which means this difficulty would be surmounted. 
But then all the world would say, that if this dispen- 
sation could legalize the latter marriage, the former 
must have been legalized by it, and this would de- 
stroy the marriage of Anne Boleyn, and with it all 
EHzabeth's claims to the succession. She could not, 
then, marry Philip, without, by the very act, effec- 
tually undermining all her own rights to the throne. 
She was far too subtle and wary to stumble into such 
a pitfall as that. 

Elizabeth rejected this and some other offers, and 



134 QUEEN ELIZABETH I1560 

one or two years passed away. In the mean time, 
the people of the country, though they had no wish 
to have her marry such a stern and heartless tyrant as 
Philip of Spain, were very uneasy at the idea of her 
not being married at all. Her life would, of course, 
in due time, come to an end, and it was of immense 
importance to the peace and happiness of the realm 
that, after her death, there should be no doubt about 
the succession. If she were to be married and leave 
children, they would succeed to the throne without 
question; but if she were to die single and childless, 
the result would be, they feared, that the Catholics 
would espouse the cause of Mary Queen of Scots, and 
the Protestants that of some Protestant descendant of 
Henry VII., and thus the country be involved in all 
the horrors of a protracted civil war. 

The House of Commons in those days was a very 
humble council, convened to discuss and settle mere 
internal and domestic affairs, and standing at a vast 
distance from the splendor and power of royalty, to 
which it looked up with the profoundest reverence 
and awe. The Commons, at the close of one of their 
sessions, ventured, in a very timid and cautious man- 
ner, to send a petition to the queen, urging her to 
consent, for the sake of the future peace of the realm, 
and the welfare of her subjects, to accept of a 
husband. Few single persons are offended at a rec- 
ommendation of marriage, if properly offered, from 



1560] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 135 

whatever quarter it may come. The queen, in this 
instance, returned what was called a very gracious 
reply. She, however, very decidedly refused the re- 
quest. She said that, as they had been very respect- 
ful in the form of their petition, and as they had 
confined it to general terms, without presuming to 
suggest either a person or a time, she would not take 
offense at their well-intended suggestion, but that she 
had no design of ever being married. At her coro- 
nation, she was married, she said, to her people, and 
the wedding ring was upon her finger still. Hers 
people were the objects of all her affection and re- \ 
gard. She should never have any other spouse. She 
said she should be well contented to have it en- 
graved upon her tomb-stone, "Here lies a queen who / 
lived and died a virgin." .--^ 

This answer silenced the Commons, but it did not 
settle the question in the public mind. Cases often 
occur of ladies saying very positively that they shall 
never consent to be married, and yet afterward alter- 
ing their minds; and many ladies, knowing how 
frequently this takes place, sagaciously conclude that, 
whatever secret resolutions they may form, they will 
be silent about them, lest they get into a position from 
which it will be afterward awkward to retreat. The 
princes of the Continent and the nobles of England 
paid no regard to Elizabeth's declaration, but continued 
to do all in their power to obtain her hand. 



136 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

One or two years afterward Elizabeth was attacked 
with the small-pox, and for a time was dangerously 
sick. In fact, for some days her life was despaired 
of, and the country was thrown into a great state of 
confusion and dismay. Parties began to form — the 
Catholics for Mary Queen of Scots, and the Protes- 
tants for the family of Jane Grey. Every thing por- 
tended a dreadful contest. Elizabeth, however, recov- 
ered; but the country had been so much alarmed at 
their narrow escape, that Parliament ventured once 
more to address the queen on the subject of her mar- 
riage. They begged that she would either consent to 
that measure, or, if she was finally determined not 
to do that, that she would cause a law to be passed, 
or an edict to be promulgated, deciding beforehand 
who was really to succeed to the throne in the event 
of her decease. 

Elizabeth would not do either. Historians have 
speculated a great deal upon her motives; all that is 
certain is the fact, she would not do either. 

But, though Elizabeth thus resisted all the plans 
formed for giving her a husband, she had, in her own 
court, a famous personal favorite, who has always 
been considered as in some sense her lover. His 
name was originally Robert Dudley, though she made 
him Earl of Leicester, and he is commonly designated 
in history by this latter name. He was a son of the 
Duke of Northumberland, who was the leader of the 



PORTRAIT, SIR WALTER RALEIGH 



1560] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 137 

plot for placing Lady Jane Grey upon the throne in 
the time of Mary. He was a very elegant and accom- 
plished man, and young, though already married. 
Elizabeth advanced him to high offices and honors 
very early in her reign, and kept him much at court. 
She made him her Master of Horse, but she did not 
bestow upon him much real power. Cecil was her 
great counselor and minister of state. He was a cool, 
sagacious, wary man, entirely devoted to Elizabeth's 
interests, and to the glory and prosperity of the realm. 
He was at this time, as has already been stated, forty 
years of age, thirteen or fourteen years older than 
Elizabeth. Elizabeth showed great sagacity in select- 
ing such a rriinister, and great wisdom in keeping 
him in power so long. He remained in her service 
all his life, and died at last, only a few years before 
Elizabeth, when he was nearly eighty years of age. 

Dudley, on the other hand, was just about Eliza- 
beth's own age. In fact, it is said by some of the 
chronicles of the times that he was born on the same 
day and hour with her. However this may be, he be- 
came a great personal favorite, and Elizabeth evinced 
a degree and kind of attachment to him which sub- 
jected her to a great deal of censure and reproach. 

She could not be thinking of him for her husband, 
it would seem, for he was already married. Just 
about this time, however, a mysterious circumstance 
occurred, which produced a great deal of excitement, 



138 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

and has ever since marked a very important era in the 
history of Leicester and Elizabeth's attachment. It was 
the sudden and very singular death of Leicester's wife. 
Leicester had, among his other estates, a lonely man- 
sion in Berkshire, about fifty miles west of London. It 
was called Cumnor House. Leicester's wife was sent 
there, no one knew why; she went under the charge 
of a gentleman who v/as one of Leicester's dependents, 
and entirely devoted to his will. The house, too, was 
occupied by a man who had the character of being 
ready for any deed which might be required of him 
by his master. The name of Leicester's wife was Amy 

Robsart. 

In a short time news came to London that the 
unhappy woman was killed by a fall down stairs ! 
The instantaneous suspicion darted at once into every 
one's mind that she had been murdered. Rumors cir- 
culated all around the place where the death had oc- 
curred, that she had been murdered. A conscientious 
clergyman of the neighborhood sent an account of 
the case to London, to the queen's ministers, stating 
the facts, and urging the queen to order an investiga- 
tion of the affair, but nothing was ever done. It has 
accordingly been the general behef of mankind since 
that time, that the unprincipled courtier destroyed his 
wife in the vain hope of becoming afterward the hus- 
band of the queen. 

The people of England were greatly incensed at 



1560] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 139 

this transaction. They had hated Leicester before, and 
they hated him now more inveterately still. Favor- 
ites are very generally hated; royal favorites always. 
He, however, grew more and more intimate with the 
queen, and every body feared that he was going to 
be her husband. Their conduct was watched very 
closely by all the great world, and, as is usual in 
such cases, a thousand circumstances and occurrences 
were reported busily from tongue to tongue, which 
the actors in them doubtless supposed passed un- 
observed or were forgotten. 

One night, for instance. Queen Elizabeth, having 
supped with Dudley, was going home in her chair, 
lighted by torch-bearers. At the present day, all Lon- 
don is lighted brilliantly at midnight with gas, and 
ladies go home from their convivial and pleasure as- 
semblies in luxurious carriages, in which they are 
rocked gently along through broad and magnificent 
avenues, as bright, almost, as day. Then, however, 
it was very different. The lady was borne slowly 
along through narrow, and dingy, and dangerous 
streets, with a train of torches before and behind her, 
dispelling the darkness a moment with their glare, 
and then leaving it more deep and somber than ever. 
On the night of which we are speaking, Elizabeth, 
feeling in good humor, began to talk with some of 
the torch-bearers on the way. They were Dudley's 
men, and Elizabeth began to praise their master. She 



I40 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560 

said to one of them, among other things, that she 
was going to raise him to a higher position than any 
of his name had ever borne before. Now, as Dudley's 
father was a duke, which title denotes the highest 
rank of the English nobility, the man inferred that the 
queen's meaning was that she intended to marry him, 
and thus make him a sort of king. The man told 
the story boastingly to one of the servants of Lord 
Arundel, who was also a suitor of the queen's. The 
servants, each taking the part of his master in the 
rivalry, quarreled. Lord Arundel's man said that he 
wished that Dudley had been hung with his father, 
or else that somebody would shoot him in the street 
with a dag. A dag was, in the language of those 
days, the name for a pistol. 

Time moved on, and though Leicester seemed to 
become more and more a favorite, the plan of his 
being married to Elizabeth, if any such were enter- 
tained by either party, appeared to come no nearer 
to an accomplishment. Elizabeth lived in great state 
and splendor, sometimes residing in her palaces in 
or near London, and sometimes making royal prog- 
resses about her dominions. Dudley, together with 
the other prominent members of her court, accom- 
panied her on these excursions, and obviously en- 
joyed a very high degree of personal favor. She 
encouraged, at the same time, her other suitors, so 
that on all the great public occasions of state, at the 



1561] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 141 

tilts and tournaments, at the plays, — which, by-the- 
way, in those days, were performed in the churches, 
— on all the royal progresses and grand receptions at 
cities, castles, and universities, the lady queen was 
surrounded always by royal or noble beaux, who 
made her presents, and paid her a thousand compli- 
ments, and offered her gallant attentions without 
number, — all prompted by ambition in the guise of 
love. They smiled upon the queen with a perpetual 
sycophancy, and gnashed their teeth secretly upon 
each other with a hatred which, unHke the pre- 
tended love was at least honest and sincere. Leices- 
ter was the gayest, most accomplished, and most 
favored of them all, and the rest accordingly com- 
bined and agreed in hating him more than they did 
each other. 

Queen Elizabeth, however, never really admitted 
that she had any design of making Leicester, or 
Dudley, as he is indiscriminately called, her husband. 
In fact, at one time she recommended him to Mary 
Queen of Scots for a husband. After Mary returned 
to Scotland, the two queens were, for a time, on 
good terms, as professed friends, though they were, 
in fact, all the time, most inveterate and implacable 
foes; but each, knowing how much injury the other 
might do her, wished to avoid exciting any unneces- 
sary hostility. Mary, particularly, as she found she 
could not get possession of the English throne dur- 



142 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1562 

ing Elizabeth's life-time, concluded to try to conciliate 
her, in hopes to persuade her to acknowledge, by 
act of Parliament, her right to the succession after 
her death. So she used to confer with Elizabeth on 
the subject of her own marriage, and to ask her ad- 
vice about it. Elizabeth did not wish to have Mary 
married at all, and so she always proposed some- 
body who she knew would be out of the question. 
She at one time proposed Leicester, and for a time 
seemed quite in earnest about it, especially so long 
as Mary seemed averse to it. At length, however, 
when Mary, in order to test her sincerity, seemed 
inclined to yield, Elizabeth retreated in her turn, and 
withdrew her proposals. Mary then gave up the 
hope of satisfying Elizabeth in any way and married 
Lord Darnley without her consent. 

Elizabeth's regard for Dudley, however, still con- 
tinued. She made him Earl of Leicester, and granted 
him the magnificent Castle of Kenilworth, with a large 
estate adjoining and surrounding it; the rents of the 
lands giving him a princely income, and enabling him 
to Uve in almost royal state. Queen Elizabeth visited 
him frequently in this castle. One of these visits is 
very minutely described by the chroniclers of the times. 
The earl made the most expensive and extraordinary 
preparations for the reception and entertainment of the 
queen and her retinue on this occasion. The moat, 
— which is a broad canal filled with water surround- 



1577] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 143 

ing the castle, — had a floating island upon it, with a 
fictitious personage whom they called the lady of the 
lake upon the island, who sang a song in praise of 
Elizabeth as she passed the bridge. There was also 
an artificial dolphin swimming upon the water, with 
a band of musicians within it. As the queen ad- 
vanced across the park, men and women, in strange 
disguises, came out to meet her, and to offer her 
salutations and praises. One was dressed as a sibyl, 
another like an American savage, and a third, who 
was concealed, represented an echo. This visit was 
continued for nineteen days, and the stories of the 
splendid entertainments provided for the company 
— the plays, the bear-baitings, the fireworks, the hunt- 
ings, the mock fights, the feastings and revelries — filled 
all Europe at the time, and have been celebrated by 
historians and story-tellers ever since. The Castle of 
Kenilworth is now a very magnificent heap of ruins, 
and is explored every year by thousands of visitors 
from every quarter of the globe. 

Leicester, if he ever really entertained any serious 
designs of being Elizabeth's husband, at last gave up 
his hopes, and married another woman. This lady 
, had been the wife of the Earl of Essex. Her husband 
\ died very suddenly and mysteriously just before Lei- 
cester married her. Leicester kept the marriage a 
Secret for some time, and when it came at last to 
the queen's knowledge she was exceedingly angry. 



144 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1578 

She had him arrested and sent to prison. However, 
she gradually recovered from her- fit of resentment, 
and by degrees restored him to her favor again. 

Twenty years of Elizabeth's reign thus passed away, 
and no one of all her suitors had succeeded in ob- 
taining her hand. All this time her government had 
been administered with much efficiency and power. All 
Europe had been in great commotion during almost 
the whole period, on account of the terrible conflicts 
which were raging between the Catholics and the 
Protestants, each party having been doing its utmost 
to exterminate and destroy the other. Elizabeth and 
her government took part, very frequently in these 
contests; sometimes by negotiations, and sometimes 
by fleets and armies, but always sagaciously and cau- 
tiously, and generally with great effect. In the mean 
time, however, the queen, being now forty-five years 
of age, was rapidly approaching the time when 
questions of marriage could no longer be entertained. 
Her lovers, or, rather, her suitors, had, one after an- 
other, given up the pursuit, and disappeared from the 
field. One only seemed at length to remain, on the 
decision of whose fate the final result of the great 
question of the queen's marriage seemed to be pend- 
ing. 

It was the Duke of Anjou. He was a French 
prince. His brother, who had been the Duke of An- 
jou before him, was now King Henry III. of France. 



i58t] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 145 

His own name was Francis. He was twenty-five years 
younger than Elizabeth, and he was only seventeen 
years of age when it was first proposed that he should 
marry her. He was then Duke of Alen9on. It was 
his mother's plan. She was the great Catharine de 
Medici, Queen of France, and one of the most extraor- 
dinary women, for her talents, her management, and 
her power, that ever lived. Having one son upon the 
throne of France, she wanted the throne of England 
for the other. The negotiation had been pending 
fruitlessly for many years, and now, in 1581, it was 
vigorously renewed. The duke himself, who was at 
this time a young man of twenty-four or five, began 
to be impatient and earnest in his suit. There was, in 
fact, one good reason why he should be so. Eliza- 
beth was forty-eight, and, unless the match were soon 
concluded, the time for effecting it would be obviously 
forever gone by. 

He had never had an interview with the queen. 
He had seen pictures of her, however, and he sent an 
embassador over to England to urge his suit, and to 
convince Elizabeth how much he was in love with 
her charms. The name of this agent was Simier. 
He was a very polite and accomplished man, and 
soon learned the art of winning his way to Elizabeth's 
favor. Leicester was very jealous of his success. 
The two favorites soon imbibed a terrible enmity for 
each other. They filled the court with their quarrels. 

M. of H. — 16 — 10 



146 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1581 

The progress of the negotiation, however, went on, 
the people taking sides very violently, some for and 
some against the projected marriage. The animosities 
became exceedingly virulent, until at length Simier's 
life seemed to be in danger. He said that Leicester 
had hired one of the guards to assassinate him; and 
it is a fact, that one day, as he and the queen, with 
other attendants, were making an excursion upon the 
river, a shot was fired from the shore into the barge. 
The shot did no injury except to wound one of the 
oarsmen and frighten all the party pretty thoroughly. 
Some thought the shot was aimed at Simier, and 
others at the queen herself. It was afterward proved, 
or supposed to be proved, that this shot was the ac- 
cidental discharge of a gun, without any evil intention 
whatever. 

In the mean time, Elizabeth grew more and more 
interested in the idea of having the young duke for 
her husband; and it seemed as if the maidenly reso- 
lutions, which had stood their ground so firmly for 
twenty years, were to be conquered at last. The 
more, however, she seemed to approach toward a 
consent to the measure, the more did all the officers 
of her government, and the nation at large, oppose 
it. There were, in their minds, two insuperable ob- 
jections to the match. The candidate was a French- 
man, and he was a papist. The council interceded. 
Friends remonstrated. The nation murmured and 



1581] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 147 

threatened. A book was published entitled "The 
Discovery of a gaping Gulf wherein England is like 
to be swallowed up by another French marriage, un- 
less the Lord forbid the Bans by letting her see the 
Sin and Punishment thereof." The author of it had 
his right hand cut off, for his punishment. 

At length, after a series of most extraordinary dis- 
cussions, negotiations, and occurrences, which kept 
the whole country in a state of great excitement for 
a long time, the affair was at last all settled. The 
marriage articles, both political and personal were all 
arranged. The nuptials were to be celebrated in six 
weeks. The duke came over in great state and was 
received with all possible pomp and parade. Festi- 
vals and banquets were arranged without number, 
and in the most magnificent style to do him and 
his attendants honor. At one of them, the queen 
took off a ring from her finger, and put it upon his, 
in the presence of a great assembly, which was the 
first announcement to the public that the affair was 
finally settled. The news spread every where with 
great rapidity. It produced in England great conster- 
nation and distress, but on the continent it was 
welcomed with joy, and the great English alliance, 
now so obviously approaching, was celebrated with 
ringing of bells, bonfires, and grand illuminations. 

And yet, notwithstanding all this, as soon as the 
obstacles were all removed, and there was no longer 



148 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1581 

opposition to stimulate the determination of the queen, 
her heart failed her at last, and she finally concluded 
that she would not be married, after all. She sent 
for the duke one morning to come and see her. What 
takes place precisely between ladies and gentlemen 
when they break off their engagements is not gener- 
ally very publicly known, but the duke came out from^ 
this interview in a fit of great vexation and anger. \ 
He pulled off the queen's ring and threw it from him, 
muttering curses upon the fickleness and faithless- 
ness of women. 

Still Elizabeth would not admit that the match 
was broken off. She continued to treat the duke 
with civility and to pay him many honors. He de- 
cided, however, to return to the Continent. She ac- 
companied him a part of the way to the coast, and 
took leave of him with many professions of sorrow 
at the parting, and begged him to come back soon. 
This he promised to do, but he never returned. He 
lived some time afterward in comparative neglect and 
obscurity, and mankind considered the question of 
the marriage of Elizabeth as now, at last, settled for- 
ever. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Personal Character. 

opinions of Elizabeth's character.- The Catholics and Protestants.- Parties 
in England.— Elizabeth's wise administration.- Mary claims the Eng- 
lish throne.— She is made prisoner by Elizabeth.— Various plots.— Exe- 
cution of Mary.— The impossibility of settling the claims of Elizabeth 
and Mary.— Elizabeth's duplicity.— Her scheming to entrap Mary.— 
Maiden ladies.— Their benevolent spirit.— Elizabeth's selfishness and 
jealousy.— The maids of honor.— Instance of Elizabeth's cruelty.— Her 
irritable temper.— I^eicester's friend and the gentleman of the black 
rod.- Elizabeth in a rage.- Her invectives against I^eicester.- I^eices- 
ter's chagrin.- Elizabeth's powers of satire.— Elizabeth's views of mar- 
riage - Her insulting conduct.- The Dean of Christ Church and the 
Prayer Book.- Elizabeth's good qualities.- Her courage.- The shot at 
the barge.- Elizabeth's vanity.- Elizabeth and the embassador.- The 
pictures.- Elizabeth's fondness for pomp and parade.- Summary of 
Elizabeth's character . 

MANKIND have always been very much divided 
in opinion in respect to the personal char- 
acter of Queen Elizabeth, but in one point all 
have agreed, and that is, that in the management of 
public affairs she was a woman of extraordinary tal- 
ent and sagacity, combining, in a very remarkable de- 
gree, a certain cautious good sense and prudence with 
the most determined resolution and energy. 

She reigned about forty years, and during almost 
all that time the whole western part of the continent 

('49) 



I50 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

of Europe was convulsed with the most terrible con- 
flicts between the Protestant and Catholic parties. 
The predominance of power was with the Catholics, 
and was, of course, hostile to EHzabeth. She had, 
moreover, in the field a very prominent competitor 
for her throne in Mary Queen of Scots. The foreign 
Protestant powers were ready to aid this claimant, 
and there was, besides, in her own dominions a very 
powerful interest in her favor. The great divisions 
of sentiment in England, and the energy with which 
each party struggled against its opponents, produced, 
at all times, a prodigious pressure of opposing forces, 
which bore heavily upon the safety of the state and 
of Elizabeth's government, and threatened them with 
continual danger. The administration of public affairs 
moved on, during all this time, trembling continually 
under the heavy shocks it was constantly receiving, 
like a ship staggering on in a storm, its safety de- 
pending on the nice equilibrium between the shocks 
of the seas, the pressure of the wind upon the sails, 
and the weight and steadiness of the ballast below. 
During all this forty years it is admitted that Eliz- 
abeth and her wise and sagacious ministers managed 
very admirably. They maintained the position and 
honor of England, as a Protestant power, with great 
success; and the country, during the whole period, 
made great progress in the arts, in commerce, and in 
improvements of every kind. Elizabeth's greatest dan- 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 151 

ger, and her greatest source of solicitude, during her 
whole reign, was from the claims of Mary Queen of 
Scots. We have already described the energetic 
measures that she took at the commencement of her 
reign to counteract and head off, at the outset, these 
dangerous pretensions. Though these efforts were 
triumphantly successful at the time, still the victory 
was not final. It postponed, but did not destroy, the 
danger. Mary continued to claim the English throne. 
Innumerable plots were beginning to be formed among 
the Catholics, in Elizabeth's own dominions, for mak- 
ing her queen. Foreign potentates and powers were 
watching an opportunity to assist in these plans. At 
last Mary, on account of internal difficulties in her 
own land, fled across the frontier into England, to 
save her life, and Elizabeth made her prisoner. 

In England, to plan or design the dethronement 
of a monarch is, in a subject, high treason. Mary 
had undoubtedly designed the dethronement of Eliza- 
beth, and was waiting only an opportunity to accom- 
plish it. Elizabeth, consequently, condemned her as 
guilty of treason, in effect; and Mary's sole defense 
against this charge was that she was not a subject. 
Elizabeth yielded to this plea, when she first found 
Mary in her power, so far as not to take her life, but 
she consigned her to a long and weary captivity. 

This, however, only made the matter worse. It 
stimulated the enthusiasm and zeal of all the Catho- 



152 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1586 

lies in England, to have their leader, and as they be- 
lieved, their rightful queen, a captive in the midst of 
them, and they formed continually the most exten- 
sive and most dangerous plots. These plots v^ere 
discovered and suppressed, one after another, each 
one producing more anxiety and alarm than the pre- 
ceding. For a time Mary suffered no evil conse- 
quences from these discoveries, further than an increase 
of the rigors of her confinement. At last the patience 
of the queen and of her government was exhausted. 
A law was passed against treason, expressed in such 
terms as to include Mary in the liability for its dread- 
ful penalties, although she was not a subject, in case 
of any new transgression; and when the next case 
occurred, they brought her to trial and condemned 
her to death. The sentence was executed in the 
gloomy Castle of Fotheringay, where she was then 
confined. 

As to the question whether Mary or Elizabeth had 
the rightful title to the English crown, it has not only 
never been settled, but from its very nature it can not 
be settled. It is one of those cases in which a pecu- 
liar contingency occurs which runs beyond the scope 
and reach of all the ordinary principles by which analo- 
gous cases are tried, and leads to questions which can 
not be decided. As long as a hereditary succession 
goes smoothly on, like a river keeping within its banks, 
we can decide subordinate and incidental questions 



1586] PERSONAL CHARACTER 153 

which may arise; but when a case occurs in which 
we have the omnipotence of Parliament to set off 
against the infaUibility of the pope — the sacred obliga- 
tions of a will against the equally sacred principles of 
hereditary succession — and when we have, at last, 
two contradictory actions of the same ultimate umpire, 
we find all technical grounds of coming to a conclu- 
sion gone. We then, abandoning these, seek for some 
higher and more universal principles — essential in the 
nature of things, and thus independent of the will 
and action of man — to see if they will throw any 
light on the subject. But we soon find ourselves as 
much perplexed and confounded in this inquiry as we 
were before. We ask, in beginning the investigation. 
What is the ground and nature of the right by which 
any king or queen succeeds to the power possessed 
by ancestors ? And we give up in despair, not being 
able to answer even this first preliminary inquiry. 

Mankind have not, in their estimate of Elizabeth's 
character, condemned so decidedly the substantial acts 
which she performed, as the dupHcity, the false-heart- 
edness, and the false pretensions which she manifested 
in performing them. Had she said frankly and openly 
to Mary before the world, *Mf these schemes for rev- 
olutionizing England and placing yourself upon the 
throne continue, your life must be forfeited; my own 
safety and the safety of the realm absolutely demand 
it" ; and then had fairly, and openly, and honestly ex- 



154 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

ecuted her threat, mankind would have been silent on 
the subject, if they had not been satisfied. But if she 
had really acted thus, she would not have been Eliza- 
beth. She, in fact, pursued a very different course. 
She maneuvered, schemed, and planned; she pretended 
to be full of the warmest affection for her cousin ; she 
contrived plot after plot, and scheme after scheme, to 
ensnare her; and when, at last, the execution took 
place, in obedience to her own formal and written au- 
thority, she pretended to great astonishment and rage. 
She never meant that the sentence should take effect. 
She filled England, France, and Scotland with the loud 
expressions of her regret, and she punished the agents 
who had executed her will. This management was to 
prevent the friends of Mary from forming plans of re- 
venge. 

This was her character in all things. She was 
famous for her false pretensions and double dealings, 
and yet, with all her talents and sagacity, the dis- 
guise she assumed was sometimes so thin and trans- 
parent that her assuming it was simply ridiculous. 

Maiden ladies, who spend their lives, in some re- 
spects, alone, often become deeply imbued with a 
kind and benevolent spirit, which seeks its gratifica- 
tion in reheving the pains and promoting the happi- 
ness of all around them. Conscious that the circum- 
stances which have caused them to lead a single life 
would secure for them the sincere sympathy and the 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 155 

increased esteem of all who know them, if delicacy 
and propriety allowed them to be expressed, they feel 
a strong degree of self-respect, they live happily, and 
are a continual means of comfort and joy to all around 
them. This was not so, however, with Elizabeth. 
She was jealous, petulant, irritable. She envied others 
the love and the domestic enjoyments which ambition 
forbade her to share, and she seemed to take great 
pleasure in thwarting and interfering with the plans 
of others for securing this happiness. 

One remarkable instance of this kind occurred. It 
seems she was sometimes accustomed to ask the 
young ladies of the court — her maids of honor — if 
they ever thought about being married, and they, be- 
ing cunning enough to know what sort of an answer 
would please the queen, always promptly denied that 
they did so. Oh no! they never thought about being 
married at all. There was one young lady, however, 
artless and sincere, who, when questioned in this 
way, answered, in her simplicity, that she often 
thought of it, and that she should like to be married 
very much, if her father would only consent to her 
union with a certain gentleman whom she loved. 
"Ah!" said Elizabeth; "well, 1 will speak to your 
father about it, and see what I can do." Not long 
after this the father of the young lady came to court, 
and the queen proposed the subject to him. The 
father said that he had not been aware that his 



156 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

daughter had formed such an attachment, but that he 
should certainly give his consent, without any hesita- 
tion, to any arrangement of that kind which the 
queen desired and advised. "That is all, then," said 
the queen; *M will do the rest." So she called the 
young lady into her presence, and told her that her 
father had given his free consent. The maiden's heart 
bounded with joy, and she began to express her hap- 
piness and her gratitude to the queen, promising to 
do every thing in her power to please her, when 
Elizabeth interrupted her, saying, **Yes, you will act 
so as to please me, I have no doubt, but you are not 
going to be a fool and get married. Your father has 
given his consent to me, and not to you, and you 
may rely upon it you will never get it out of my pos- 
session. You were pretty bold to acknowledge your 
foolishness to me so readily." 

EHzabeth was very irritable, and could never bear 
any contradiction. In the case even of Leicester, 
who had such an unbounded influence over her, if 
he presumed a little too much he would meet some- 
times a very severe rebuff, such as nobody but a 
courtier would endure; but courtiers, haughty and 
arrogant as they are in their bearing toward inferiors, 
are generally fawning sycophants toward those above 
them, and they will submit to any thing imaginable 
from a queen. 

It was the custom in Elizabeth's days, as it is 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 157 

now among the great in European countries, to have 
a series or suite of rooms, one beyond the other, the 
inner one being the presence-chamber, and the others 
being occupied by attendants and servants of various 
grades, to regulate and control the admission of com- 
pany. Some of these officers were styled gentlemen 
of the black rod, that name being derived from a pe- 
culiar badge of authority which they were accustomed 
to carry. It happened, one day, that a certain gay 
captain, a follower of Leicester's, and a sort of favor- 
ite of his, was stopped in the antechamber by one 
of the gentlemen of the black rod, named Bowyer, 
the queen having ordered him to be more careful 
and particular in respect to the admission of company. 
The captain, who was proud of the favor which he 
enjoyed with Leicester, resented this affront, and 
threatened the officer, and he was engaged in an al- 
tercation with him on the subject when Leicester 
came in. Leicester took his favorite's part, and told 
the gentleman usher that he was a knave, and that 
he would have him turned out of office. Leicester 
was accustomed to feel so much confidence in his 
power over Elizabeth, that his manner toward all be- 
neath him had become exceedingly haughty and over- 
bearing. He supposed, probably, that the officer would 
humble himself at once before his rebukes. 

The officer, however, instead of this stepped 
directly in before Leicester, who was then going in 



158 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

himself to the presence of the queen; kneeled before 
her majesty, related the facts of the case, and hum- 
bly asked what it was her pleasure that he should 
do. He had obeyed her majesty's orders, he said, 
and had been called imperiously to account for it, 
and threatened violently by Leicester, and he wished 
now to know whether Leicester was king or her 
majesty queen. Elizabeth was very much displeased 
with the conduct of her favorite. She turned to him, 
and, beginning with a sort of oath which she was 
accustomed to use when irritated and angry, she ad- 
dressed him in invectives and reproaches the most 
severe. She gave him, in a word, wh^t would be 
called a scolding, were it not that scolding is a term 
not sufficiently dignified for history, even for such 
humble history as this. She told him that she had 
indeed shown him favor, but her favor was not so 
fixed and settled upon him that nobody else was to 
have any share, and that if he imagined that he could 
lord it over her household, she would contrive a way 
very soon to convince him of his mistake. There 
was one mistress to rule there, she said, but no 
master. She then dismissed Bowyer, telling Leicester 
that, if any evil happened to him, she should hold 
him, that is, Leicester, to a strict account for it as 
she should be convinced it would have come through 
his means. 

Leicester was exceedingly chagrined at this result 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 159 

of the difficulty. Of course he dared not defend him- 
self or reply. All the other courtiers enjoyed his con- 
fusion very highly, and one of them, in giving an ac- 
count of the affair, said, in conclusion, that ''the 
queen's words so quelled him, that, for some time 
after, his feigned humility was one of his best vir- 
tues." 

Queen Elizabeth very evidently possessed that 
peculiar combination of quickness of intellect and 
readiness of tongue which enables those who possess 
it to say very sharp and biting things, when vexed 
or out of humor. It is a brilliant talent, though it 
always makes those who possess it hated and feared. 
Elizabeth was often wantonly cruel in the exercise 
of this satirical power, considering very little — as is 
usually the case with such persons — the justice of 
her invectives, but obeying blindly the impulses of 
the ill nature which prompted her to utter them. 
We have already said that she seemed always to have 
a special feeling of ill will against marriage and every 
thing that pertained to it, and she had, particularly, 
a theory that the bishops and the clergy ought not 
to be married. She could not absolutely prohibit 
their marrying, but she did issue an injunction for- 
bidding any of the heads of the colleges or cathedrals 
to take their wives into the same, or any of their 
precincts. At one time, in one of her royal prog- 
resses through the country, she was received and 



i6o QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

very magnificently and hospitably entertained by the 
Archbishop of Canterbury, at his palace. The arch- 
bishop's wife exerted herself very particularly to please 
the queen and to do her honor. Elizabeth evinced 
her gratitude by turning to her, as she was about to 
take her leave, and saying that she could not call 
her the archbishop's wife, and did not like to call 
her his mistress, and so she did not know what to 
call her; but that, at all events, she was very much 
obliged to her for her hospitality. 

Elizabeth's highest officers of state were continu- 
ally exposed to her sharp and sudden reproaches, and 
they often incurred them by sincere and honest efforts 
to gratify and serve her. She had made an arrange- 
ment, one day, to go into the city of London to St. 
Paul's Church, to hear the Dean of Christ Church, a 
distinguished clergyman, preach. The dean procured 
a copy of the Prayer Book, and had it splendidly 
bound, with a great number of beautiful and costly 
prints interleaved in it. These prints were all of a 
religious character, being representations of sacred 
history, or of scenes in the lives of the saints. The 
volume, thus prepared, was very beautiful, and it was 
placed, when the Sabbath morning arrived, upon the 
queen's cushion at the church, ready for her use. 
The queen entered in great state, and took her seat 
in the midst of all the parade and ceremony custo- 
mary on such occasions. As soon, however, as she 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 161 

opened the book and saw the pictures, she frowned, 
and seemed to be much displeased. She shut the 
book and put it away, and called for her own; and, 
after the service, she sent for the dean, and asked 
him who brought that book there. He repHed, in a 
very humble and submissive manner, that he had 
procured it himself, having intended it as a present 
for her majesty. This only produced fresh expressions 
of displeasure. She proceeded to rebuke him severely 
for countenancing such a popish practice as the intro- 
duction of pictures in the churches. All this time 
Elizabeth had herself a crucifix in her own private 
chapel, and the dean himself, on the other hand, was 
a firm and consistent Protestant, entirely opposed to 
the Catholic system of images and pictures, as Eliza- 
beth very well knew. 

This sort of roughness was a somewhat masculine 
trait of character for a lady, it must be acknowledged, 
and not a very agreeable one, even in man; but with 
some of the bad qualities of the other sex, Elizabeth 
possessed, also, some that were good. She was cou- 
rageous, and she evinced her courage sometimes in a 
very noble manner. At one time, when political ex- 
citement ran very high, her friends thought that there 
was serious danger in her appearing openly in public, 
and they urged her not to do it, but to confine her- 
self within her palaces for a time, until the excite- 
ment should pass away. But no; the representations 

M. of H.— 16— II 



i62 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

made to her produced no effect. She said she would 
continue to go out just as freely as ever. She did 
not think that there was really any danger; and be- 
sides, if there was, she did not care; she would 
rather take her chance of being killed than to be 
kept shut up like a prisoner. 

At the time, too, when the shot was fired at the 
barge in which she was going down the Thames, 
many of her ministers thought it was aimed at her. 
They endeavored to convince her of this, and urged 
her not to expose herself to such dangers. She re- 
plied that she did not believe that the shot was aimed 
at her; and that, in fact, she would not believe any- 
thing of her subjects which a father would not be 
willing to believe of his own children. So she went 
on saiHng in her barge just as before. 

Ehzabeth was very vain of her beauty, though, un- 
fortunately, she had very little beauty to be vain of. 
Nothing pleased her so much as compliments. She 
sometimes almost exacted them. At one time, when 
a distinguished embassador from Mary Queen of Scots 
was at her court, she insisted on his telling her 
whether she or Mary was the most beautiful. When 
we consider that Elizabeth was at this time over 
thirty years of age, and Mary only twenty-two, and 
that the fame of Mary's loveliness had filled the world, 
it must be admitted that this question indicated a con- 
siderable degree of self-complacency. The embassador 



1560-80] PERSONAL CHARACTER 163 

had the prudence to attempt to evade the inquiry. 
He said at first that they were both beautiful enough. 
But EHzabeth wanted to know, she said, which was 
most beautiful. The embassador then said that his 
queen was the most beautiful queen in Scotland and 
Elizabeth in England. Elizabeth was not satisfied with 
this, but insisted on a definite answer to her ques- 
tion; and the embassador said at last that Elizabeth 
had the fairest complexion, though Mary was consid- 
ered a very lovely woman. Elizabeth then wanted to 
know which was the tallest of the two. The embassa- 
dor said that Mary was. '* Then," said EHzabeth, "she 
is too tall, for I am just of the right height myself." 

At one time during Ehzabeth's reign, the people 
took a fancy to engrave and print portraits of her, 
which, being perhaps tolerably faithful to the orig- 
inal, were not very alluring. The queen was much 
vexed at the circulation of these prints, and finally 
she caused a grave and formal proclamation to be 
issued against them. In this proclamation it was 
stated that it was the intention of the queen, at 
some future time, to have a proper attist employed 
to execute a correct and true portrait of herself, 
which should then be published; and, in the mean 
time, all persons were forbidden to make or sell any 
representations of her whatever. 

EHzabeth was extremely fond of pomp and parade. 
The magnificence and splendor of the celebrations and 



1 64 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1560-80 

festivities which charcterized her reign have scarcely 
ever been surpassed in any country or in any age. 
She once went to attend church, on a particular occa- 
sion, accompanied by a thousand men in full armor of 
steel, and ten pieces of cannon, with drums and 
trumpets sounding. She received her foreign embas- 
sadors with military spectacles and shows, and with 
banquets and parties of pleasure, which for many 
days kept all London in a fever of excitement. Some 
times she made excursions on the river, with whole 
fleets of boats and barges in her train; the shores, on 
such occasions, swarming with spectators, and wav- 
ing with flags and banners. Sometimes she would 
make grand progresses through her dominions, followed 
by an army of attendants — lords and ladies dressed 
and mounted in the most costly manner — and put- 
ting the nobles whose seats she visited to a vast ex- 
pense in entertaining such a crowd of visitors. Being 
very saving of her own means, she generally con- 
trived to bring the expense of this magnificence upon 
others. The honor was a sufficient equivalent. Or, 
if it was not, nobody dared to complain. 

To sum up all, Elizabeth was very great and she 
was, at the same time, very little. Littleness and great- 
ness mingled in her character in a manner which has 
scarcely ever been paralleled, except by the equally 
singular mixture of admiration and contempt with 
which mankind have always regarded her. 



CHAPTER X. 

The Invincible Armada. 

Fierce contests between Catholics and Protestants.- Philip's cruelty.- Effects 
of War -Napoleon and Xerxes.- March of improvement.- Spanish ar- 
madas -The Low Countries.- Their situation and condition.- Embas- 
saee from the I.ow Countries.- Their proposition.- Elizabeth's decision. 
-Leicester and Drake.- I^eicester sets out for the I.ow Countries.- His 
reception.- Leicester's elation.- Elizabeth's displeasure.- Drake's sue- 
cess - His deeds of cruelty.- Drake's expedition in 1577- Execution of 
Doughtv.- Straits of Magellan.- Drake plunders the Spaniards.- Chase 
of the c'acofogo.- Drake captures her.- Drake's escape by going round 
the world - Character of Drake.- Philip demands the treasure.- Alarm- 
ing news.- Elizabeth's navy.- Drake's expedition against the Span- 
iards - His bold stroke.- Exasperation of Philip.- His preparations.- 
Elizabeth's preparations.- The army and navy.- EUzabeth reviews the 
troops - Her speech.- Elizabeth's energy.- Approach of the armada.- 
A grand spectacle.- A singular fight.- Defeat of the armada.- A rem- 
nant escapes. 

THIRTY years of Queen Elizabeth's reign passed 
away. During all this time the murderous 
contests between the Catholic governments 
of France and Spain, and their Protestant subjects, 
went on with terrible energy. Philip of Spain was 
the great leader and head of the Catholic powers, 
and he prosecuted his work of exterminating heresy 
with the sternest and most merciless determination. 

C165) 



i66 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1585 

Obstinate and protracted wars, cruel tortures, and im- 
prisonments and executions without number^ marked 
his reign. 

Notwithstanding all this, however, strange as it 
may seem, the country increased in population, 
wealth, and prosperity. It is, after all, but a very 
small proportion of fifty millions of people which the 
most cruel monster of a tyrant can kill, even if he 
devotes himself fully to the work. The natural deaths 
among the vast population within the reach of Phil- 
ip's power amounted, probably, to two millions every 
year; and if he destroyed ten thousand every year, it 
was only adding one death by violence to two hundred 
produced by accidents, disasters, or age. Dreadful as 
are the atrocities of persecution and war, and vast and 
incalculable as are the encroachments on human happi- 
ness which they produce, we are often led to overrate 
their relative importance, compared with the aggre- 
gate value of the interests and pursuits which are left 
unharmed by them, by not sufficiently appreciating 
the enormous extent and magnitude of these interests 
and pursuits in such communities as England, France, 
and Spain. 

Sometimes, it is true, the operations of military 
heroes have been on such a prodigious scale as to 
make very serious inroads on the population of the 
greatest states. Napoleon, for instance, on one occa- 
sion took five hundred thousand men out of France for 



1585] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 167 

his expedition to Russia. The campaign destroyed 
nearly all of them. It was only a very insignificant frac- 
tion of the vast army that ever returned. By this trans- 
action, Napoleon thus just about doubled the annual 
mortality in France at a single blow. Xerxes enjoys 
the glory of having destroyed about a million of men — 
and these, not enemies, but countrymen, followers 
and friends — in the same way, on a single expedition. 
Such vast results, however, were not attained in the 
conflicts which marked the reigns of Elizabeth, and 
Philip of Spain. Notwithstanding the long-protracted 
international wars, and dreadful civil commotions of the 
period, the world went on increasing in wealth and 
population, and all the arts and improvements of life 
made very rapid progress. America had been discov- 
ered, and the way to the East Indies had been opened 
to European ships, and the Spaniards, the Portuguese, 
the Dutch, the English, and the French, had fleets of 
merchant vessels and ships of war in every sea. The 
Spaniards, particularly, had acquired great possessions 
in America, which contained very rich mines of gold 
and silver, and there was a particular kind of vessels 
called galleons, which went regularly once a year, 
under a strong convoy, to bring home the treasure. 
They used to call these fleets armada, which is the 
Spanish word denoting an armed squadron. Nations 
at war with Spain always made great efforts to inter- 
cept and seize these ships on their homeward voyages, 



i68 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1585 

when, being laden with gold and silver, they became 
prizes of the highest value. 

Things were in this state about the year 1585, 
when Queen Elizabeth received a proposition from 
the Continent of Europe which threw her into great 
perplexity. Among the other dominions of Philip of 
Spain, there were certain states situated in the broad 
tract of low, level land which Hes northeast of France, 
and which constitutes, at the present day, the coun- 
tries of Holland and Belgium. This territory was 
then divided into several provinces, which were called, 
usually, the Low Countries, on account of the low 
and level situation of the land. In fact, there are vast 
tracts of land bordering the shore, which lie so low 
that dikes have to be built to keep out the sea. In 
these cases, there are lines of windmills, of great 
size and power, all along the coast, whose vast wings 
are always slowly revolving, to pump out the water 
which percolates through the dikes, or which flows 
from the water-courses after showers of rain. 

The Low Countries were very unwilling to submit 
to the tyrannical government which Philip exercised 
over them. The inhabitants were generally Protes- 
tants, and Philip persecuted them cruelly. They were, 
in consequence of this, continually rebelling against 
his authority, and EHzabeth secretly aided them in 
these struggles, though she would not openly assist 
them, as she did not wish to provoke Philip to open 



1585] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 169 

war. She wished them success, however, for she 
knew very well that if Philip could once subdue his 
Protestant subjects at home, he would immediately 
turn his attention to England, and perhaps undertake 
to depose Elizabeth, and place some Catholic prince 
or princess upon the throne in her stead. 

Things were in this state in 1585, when the con- 
federate provinces of the Low Countries sent an 
embassage to Elizabeth, offering her the government 
of the country as sovereign queen, if she would 
openly espouse their cause and protect them from 
Philip's power. This proposition called for very serious 
and anxious consideration. Elizabeth felt very desirous 
to make this addition to her dominions on its own 
account, and besides, she saw at once that such an 
acquisition would give her a great advantage in her 
future contests with Philip, if actual war must come. 
But then, on the other hand, by accepting the propo- 
sition, war must necessarily be brought on at once. 
Philip would, in fact, consider her espousing the 
cause of his rebellious subjects, as an actual declara- 
tion of war on her part, so that making such a league 
with these countries would plunge her at once into 
hostilities with the greatest and most extended power 
on the globe. Elizabeth was very unwilling thus to 
precipitate the contest; but then, on the other hand, 
she wished very much to avoid the danger that 
threatened, of Philip's first subduing his own do- 



lyo QUEEN ELIZABETH [1585 

minions, and then advancing to the invasion of Eng- 
land with his undivided strength. She finally con- 
cluded not to accept the sovereignty of the countries, 
but to make a league, offensive and defensive, with 
the governments, and to send out a fleet and an 
army to aid them. This, as she had expected, brought 
on a general war. 

The queen commissioned Leicester to take com- 
mand of the forces which were to proceed to Holland 
and the Netherlands; she also equipped a fleet, and ' 
placed it under the command of Sir Francis Drake, a 
very celebrated naval captain, to proceed across the 
Atlantic and attack the Spanish possessions on the 
American shores. Leicester was extremely elated with 
his appointment, and set off on his expedition with 
great pomp and parade. He had not generally, during 
his life, held stations of any great trust or responsi- 
bility. The queen had conferred upon him high titles 
and vast estates, but she had confided all real power 
to far more capable and trustworthy hands. She 
thought, however, perhaps, that Leicester would an- 
swer for her allies; so she gave him his commission 
and sent him forth, charging him, with many injunc- 
tions, as he went away, to be discreet and faithful, 
and to do nothing which should compromise, in any 
way, her interests or honor. 

It will, perhaps, be recollected that Leicester's wife 
had been, before her marriage with him, the wife of a 



1585] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 171 

nobleman named the Earl of Essex. She had a son, 
who, at his father's death, succeeded to the title. 
This young Essex accompanied Leicester on this oc- 
casion. His subsequent adventures, which were ro- 
mantic and extraordinary, will be narrated in the next 
chapter. 

The people of the Netherlands, being extremely 
desirous to please Elizabeth, their new ally, thought 
that they could not honor the great general she had 
sent them too highly. They received him with most 
magnificent military parades, and passed a vote in their 
assembly investing him with absolute authority as 
head of the government, thus putting him, in fact, in 
the very position which Elizabeth had herself declined 
receiving. Leicester was extremely pleased and elated 
with these honors. He was king all but in name. 
He provided himself with a noble life-guard, in im- 
itation of royalty, and assumed all the state and airs 
of a monarch. Things went on so very prosperously 
with him for a short time, until he was one day thun- 
der-struck by the appearance at his palace of a noble- 
man from the queen's court, named Heneage, who 
brought him a letter from Elizabeth which was in sub- 
stance as follows: 

"How foolishly, and with what contempt of my 
authority, I think you have acted, the messenger I 
now send to you will explain. I little imagined that 



172 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1577 

a man whom I had raised from the dust, and treated 
with so much favor, would have forgotten all his 
obligations, and acted in such a manner. I command 
you now to put yourself entirely under the direction 
of this messenger, to do in all things precisely as he 
requires, upon pain of further peril." 

Leicester humbled himself immediately under this 
rebuke, sent home most ample apologies and prayers 
for forgiveness, and, after a time, gradually recovered 
the favor of the queen. He soon, however, became 
very unpopular [in the Netherlands. Grievous com- 
plaints were made against him, and he was at length 
recalled. 

Drake was more successful. He was a bold, un- 
daunted, and energetic seaman, but unprincipled and 
merciless. He manned and equipped his fleet, and 
set sail toward the Spanish possessions in America. 
He attacked the colonies, sacked the towns, plun- 
dered the inhabitants, intercepted the ships, and 
searched them for silver and gold. In a word, he did 
exactly what pirates are hung for doing, and execrated 
afterward by all mankind. But, as Queen Elizabeth 
gave him permission to perform these exploits, he 
has always been applauded by mankind as a hero. 
We would not be understood as denying that there 
is any difference between burning and plundering 
innocent towns and robbing ships, whether there is 



1578] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 173 

or is not a governmental permission to commit these 
crimes. There certainly is a difference. It only seems 
to us surprising that there should be so great a dif- 
ference as is made by the general estimation of man- 
kind. 

Drake, in fact, had acquired a great and honorable 
celebrity for such deeds before this time, by a simi- 
lar expedition, several years before, in which he had 
been driven to make the circumnavigation of the 
globe. England and Spain were then nominally at 
peace, and the expedition was really in pursuit of 
prizes and plunder. 

Drake took five vessels with him on this his first 
expedition, but they were all very small. The largest 
was only a vessel of one hundred tons, while the 
ships which are now built are often of many thousand. 
With this little fleet Drake set sail boldly, and crossed 
the Atlantic, being fifty-five days out of sight of land. 
He arrived at last on the coast of South America, and 
then turned his course southward, toward the Straits 
of Magellan. Two of his vessels, he found, were so 
small as to be of very httle service; so he shipped the 
men on board the others, and turned the two adrift. 
When he got well into the southern seas, he charged 
his chief mate, whose name was Doughty, with some 
offense against the discipline of his little fleet, and had 
him condemned to death. He was executed at the 
Straits of Magellan — beheaded. Before he died, the 



174 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1579 

unhappy convict had the sacrament administered to 
him, Drake himself partaking of it with him. It was 
said, and believed at the time, that the charge against 
Doughty was only a pretense, and that the real cause 
of his death was, that Leicester had agreed with 
Drake to kill him when far away, on account of his 
having assisted, with others, in spreading the reports 
that Leicester had murdered the Earl of Essex, the 
former husband of his wife. 

The little squadron passed through the Straits of 
Magellan, and then encountered a dreadful storm, 
which separated the ships, and drove them several 
hundred miles to the westward, over the then bound- 
less and trackless waters of the Pacific Ocean. Drake 
himself afterward recovered the shore with his own 
ship alone, and moved northward. He found Spanish 
ships and Spanish merchants every where, who, not 
dreaming of the presence of an Enghsh enemy in those 
distant seas, were entirely secure; and they fell, one 
after another, a very easy prey. The very extraordi- 
nary story is told of his finding, in one place, a Span- 
iard asleep upon the shore, waiting, perhaps, for a 
boat, with thirty bars of silver by his side, of great 
weight and value, which Drake and his men seized 
and carried off, without so much as waking the owner. 
In one harbor which he entered he found three ships, 
from which the seamen had all gone ashore, leaving 
the vessels completely unguarded, so entirely uncon- 



1579] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 175 

scious were they of any danger near. Drake broke 
into the cabins of these ships, and found fifty or sixty 
wedges of pure silver there, of twenty pounds each. 
In this way, as he passed along the coast, he col- 
lected an immense treasure in silver and gold, both 
coin and bullion, without having to strike a blow for 
it. At last he heard of a very rich ship called the 
Cacafuego, which had recently sailed for Panama, to 
which place they were taking the treasure, in order 
that it might be transported across the isthmus, and 
so taken home to Spain; for, before Drake's voyage, 
scarcely a single vessel had ever passed round Cape 
Horn. The ships which he had plundered had been 
all built upon the coast, by Spaniards who had come 
across the country at the Isthmus of Darien, and 
were to be used only to transport the treasure north- 
ward, where it could be taken across to the Gulf of 
Mexico. 

Drake gave chase to the Cacafuego. At last he 
came near enough to fire into her, and one of his 
first shots cut away her foremast and disabled her. 
He soon captured the ship, and he found immense 
riches on board. Besides pearls and precious stones 
of great value, there were eighty pounds of gold, 
thirteen chests of silver coin, and silver enough in 
bars "to ballast a ship." 

Drake's vessel was now richly laden with treasures, 
but in the mean time the news of his plunderings 



176 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1581 

had gone across the Continent, and some Spanish 
ships of war had gone south to intercept him at the 
Straits of Magellan on his return. In this dilemma, 
the adventurous sailor conceived of the sublime idea of 
avoiding them by going round the world to get 
home. He pushed boldly forward, therefore, across 
the Pacific Ocean to the East Indies, thence through 
the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Good Hope, and, 
after three years from the time he left England, he 
returned to it safely again, his ship loaded with the 
plundered silver and gold. 

As soon as he arrived in the Thames, the whole 
world flocked to see the little ship that had performed 
all these wonders. The vessel was drawn up along- 
side the land, and a bridge made to it, and, after the 
treasure was taken out, it was given up, for some 
time, to banquetings and celebrations of every kind. 
The queen took possession of all the treasure, saying 
that Philip might demand it, and she be forced to 
make restitution, for it must be remembered that all 
this took place several years before the war. She, 
however, treated the successful sailor with every mark 
of consideration and honor; she went herself on board 
his ship, and partook of an entertainment there, con- 
ferring the honor of knighthood, at the same time, on 
the admiral, so that ''Sir Francis Drake" was thence- 
forth his proper title. 

If the facts already stated do not give sufficient 



1587] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 177 

indications of the kind of character which in those 
days made a naval hero, one other circumstance may 
be added. At one time during this voyage, a Span- 
iard, whose ship Drake had spared, made him a 
present of a beautiful negro girl. Drake kept her on 
board his ship for a time, and then sent her ashore 
on some island that he was passing, and inhumanly 
abandoned her there, to become a mother among 
strangers, utterly friendless and alone. It must be 
added, however, in justice to the rude men among 
whom this wild buccaneer lived, that, though they 
praised all his other deeds of violence and wrong, 
this atrocious cruelty was condemned. It had the ef- 
fect, even in those days, of tarnishing his fame. 

Philip did claim the money, but Elizabeth found 
plenty of good excuses for not paying it over to him. 

This celebrated expedition occupied more than 
three years. Going round the world is a long jour- 
ney. The arrival of the ship in London took place 
in 1581, four years before the war actually broke out 
between England and Spain, which was in 1585; and 
it was in consequence of the great celebrity which 
Drake had acquired in this and similar excursions, 
that when at last hostilities commenced, he was put 
in command of the naval preparations. It was not 
long before it was found that his services were likely 
to be required near home, for rumors began to find 
their way to England that Philip was preparing a 

M. of H.— 16— 12 



178 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1587 

great fleet for the actual invasion of England. The 
news put the whole country into a state of great 
alarm. 

The reader, in order to understand fully the 
grounds for this alarm, must remember that in those 
days Spain was the mistress of the ocean, and not 
England herself. Spain possessed the distant colonies 
and the foreign commerce, and built and armed the 
great ships, while England had comparatively few 
ships, and those which she had were small. To 
meet the formidable preparations which the Spaniards 
were making, Elizabeth equipped only four ships. 
To these, however, the merchants of London added 
twenty or thirty more, of various sizes, which they 
furnished on condition of having a share in the plun- 
der which they hoped would be secured. The whole 
fleet was put under Drake's command. 

Robbers and murderers, whether those that oper- 
ate upon the sea or on the land, are generally coura- 
geous, and Drake's former success had made him 
feel doubly confident and strong. Philip had col- 
lected a considerable fleet of ships in Cadiz, which 
is a strong sea-port in the southeastern part of Spain, 
on the Mediterranean Sea, and others were assem- 
bhng in all the ports and bays along the shore, 
wherever they could be built or purchased. They 
were to rendezvous finally at Cadiz. Drake pushed 
boldly forward, and, to the astonishment of the 



1588] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 179 

world, forced his way into the harbor, through a 
squadron of galleys stationed there to protect the 
entrance, and burned, sunk, and destroyed more 
than a hundred ships which had been collected there. 
The whole work was done, and the little English 
fleet was off again, before the Spaniards could re- 
cover from their astonishment. Drake then sailed 
along the coast, seizing and destroying all the ships 
he could find. He next pushed to sea a little way, 
and had the good fortune to intercept and capture 
a richly-laden ship of very large size, called a car- 
rack, which was coming home from the East Indies. 
He then went back to England in triumph. He 
said he had been *' singeing the whiskers" of the 
King of Spain. 

The booty was divided among the London mer- 
chants, as had been agreed upon. Philip was exasper- 
ated and enraged beyond expression at this unexpected 
destruction of armaments which had cost him so 
much time and money to prepare. His spirit was irri- 
tated and aroused by the disaster, not quelled; and 
he immediately began to renew his preparations, mak- 
ing them now on a still vaster scale than before. 
The amount of damage which Drake effected was, 
therefore, after all, of no greater benefit to England 
than putting back the invasion for about a year. 

At length, in the summer of 1588, the preparations 
for the sailing of the great armada, which was to de- 



i8o QUEEN ELIZABETH [1588 

throne Elizabeth, and bring back the English nation 
again under the dominion of some papal prince, and 
put down, finally, the cause of Protestantism in Eu- 
rope, were complete. Elizabeth herself, and the Eng- 
lish people, in the mean time, had not been idle. 
The whole kingdom had been for months filled with 
enthusiasm to prepare for meeting the foe. Armies 
were levied and fleets raised. Every maritime town 
furnished ships; and rich noblemen, in many cases, 
built or purchased vessels with their own funds, and 
sent them forward ready for the battle, as their con- 
tribution toward the means of defense. A large part 
of the force thus raised was stationed at Plymouth, 
which is the first great sea-port which presents itself 
on the English coast in sailing up the Channel. The 
remainder of it was stationed at the other end of the 
Channel, near the Straits of Dover, for it was feared 
that, in addition to the vast armament which Philip 
was to bring from Spain, he would raise another fleet 
in the Netherlands, which would, of course, approach 
the shores of England from the German Ocean. 

Besides the fleets, a large army was raised. Twenty 
thousand men were distributed along the southern 
shores of England in such positions as to be most easily 
concentrated at any point where the armada might 
attempt to land, and about as many more were 
marched down the Thames, and encamped near the 
mouth of the river, to guard that access. This en- 



1588] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 181 

campment was at a place on the northern bank of the 
river, just above its mouth. Leicester, strange as it 
may seem, was put in command of this army. The 
queen, however, herself, went to visit this en- 
campment, and reviewed the troops in person. She 
rode to and fro on horseback along the lines, armed 
like a warrior. At least she had a corslet of polished 
steel over her magnificent dress, and bore a general's 
truncheon, a richly-ornamented staff used as a badge 
of command. She had a helmet, too, with a white 
plume. This, however, she did not wear. A page 
bore it, following her, while she rode, attended by 
Leicester and the other generals, all mounted on 
horses and splendidly caparisoned, from rank to rank, 
animating the men to the highest enthusiasm by her 
courageous bearing, her look of confidence, and her 
smiles. 

She made an address to the soldiers. She said that 
she had been warned by some of her ministers of the 
danger of trusting herself to the power of such an 
armed multitude, for these forces were not regularly en- 
listed troops, but volunteers from among the citizens, 
who had suddenly left the ordinary vocations and pur- 
suits of life to defend their country in this emergency. 
She had, however, she said, no such apprehensions of 
danger. She could trust herself without fear to the 
courage and fidelity of her subjects, as she had always, 
during all her reign, considered her greatest strength 



i82 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1588 

and safe guard as consisting in their loyalty and good 
will. For herself, she had come to the camp, she as- 
sured them, not for the sake of empty pageantry and 
parade, but to take her share with them in the dan- 
gers, and toils, and terrors of the actual battle. If 
Philip should land, they would find their queen in the 
hottest of the conflict, fighting by their sides. *i have," 
said she, **I know, only the body of a weak and fee- 
ble woman, but 1 have the heart of a king; and I am 
ready for my God, my kingdom, and my people, to 
have that body laid down even in the dust. If the 
battle comes, therefore, I shall myself be in the midst 
and front of it, to live or die with you." 

These were, thus far, but words, it is true, and how 
far Ehzabeth would have vindicated their sincerity, if 
,the entrance of the armada into the Thames had put 
her to the test, we can not now know. Sir Francis 
Drake saved her from the trial. One morning a small 
vessel came into the harbor at Plymouth, where the 
English fleet was lying, with the news that the ar- 
mada was coming up the Channel under full sail. The 
anchors of the fleet were immediately raised, and 
great exertions made to get it out of the harbor, which 
was difficult, as the wind at the time was blowing 
directly in. The squadron got out at last, as night 
was coming on. The next morning the armada hove 
in sight, advancing from the westward up the Channel, 
in a vast crescent, which extended for seven miles 



DESTRUCTION OF SPANISH ARMADA 



tieet of tire 
anchorag 
which scatt 

he discor 



dark 



1588] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 183 

from north to south, and seemed to sweep the whole 
sea. 

It was a magnificent spectacle, and it was the 
ushering in of that far grander spectacle still, of which 
the English Channel was the scene for the ten days 
which followed, during which the enormous naval struc- 
tures of the armada, as they slowly made their way 
along, were followed, and fired upon, and harassed by 
the smaller, and lighter, and more active vessels of 
their English foes. The unwieldy monsters pressed on, 
surrounded and worried by their nimbler enemies like 
hawks driven by kingfishers through the sky. Day 
after day this most extraordinary contest, half flight 
and half battle, continued, every promontory on the 
shores covered all the time with spectators, who lis- 
tened to the distant booming of the guns, and watched 
the smoke which arose from the cannonading and 
the conflagrations. One great galleon after another 
fell a prey. Some were burned, some taken as prizes, 
some driven ashore; and finally, one dark night, the 
English sent a fleet of fire-ships, all in flames, into 
the midst of the anchorage to which the Spaniards 
had retired, which scattered them in terror and dis- 
may, and completed the discomfiture of the squadron. 

The result was, that by the time the invincible 
armada had made its way through the Channel, and 
had passed the Straits of Dover, it was so dispersed, 
and shattered, and broken, that its commanders, far 



1 84 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1588 

from feeling any disposition to sail up the Thames, 
were only anxious to make good their escape from 
their indefatigable and tormenting foes. THey did not 
dare, in attempting to make this escape, to return 
through the Channel, so they pushed northward into 
the German Ocean. Their only course for getting 
back to Spain again was to pass round the northern 
side of England, among the cold and stormy seas 
that are rolling in continually among the ragged rocks 
and gloomy islands which darken the ocean there. 
At last a miserable remnant of the fleet — less than 
half — made their way back to Spain again. 




CHAPTER XI. 

The Earl of Essex. 

Character of Essex.— Death of Leicester.— Essex becomes the queen's faTor- 
ite.— Cecil and Essex.— Elizabeth's regard for Essex.— His impuliive 
bravery.— Essex's ardor for battle.— His duel.— Elizabeth's remarks 
upon the duel.— She gives Essex a ring.— The quarrel.— The box on the 
ear.— Mortification of Essex.— He and Elizabeth reconciled.— Essex 
sent to Ireland.— Curious negotiations.— The queen's displeasure.— E8» 
sex's sudden return.— Essex is arrested.- Resentment and love.— Es- 
sex's anger and chagrin.— He is taken sick.— Nature of Essex's sickness. 

— The queen's anxiety.— The queen's kindness to Essex.— They are 
reconciled again.— Essex's promises.— The queen's ungenerous conduct. 

— Essex's monopoly of wines.— The queen refuses to renew it.— Essex 
made desperate.— His treasonable schemes. — Ramification of the plot. 

— It is discovered.— Anxious deliberations.— The rising determined 
upon.— The hostages.— Essex enters the city.— The proclamation.— 
Essex unsuccessful. — Essex's helpless condition.— He escapes to his 
palace. — Essex made prisoner, tried, and condemned. — His remorse. — 
Elizabeth's distress.— The ring not sent.— The warrant signed.— The 
platform.— Essex's last words.— The closing scene.— The courtier.— 
His fiendish pleasure. 

THE lady whom the Earl of Leicester married 
was, a short time before he married her, the 
wife of the Earl of Essex, and she had one 
son, who, on the death of his father, became the 
Earl of Essex in his turn. He came to court, and 
continued in Leicester's family after his mother's sec- 
ond marriage. He was an accomplished and elegant 
young man, and was regarded with a good deal of 

(>85) 



i86 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1588 

favor by the queen. He was introduced at court 
when he was but seventeen years old, and, being 
the step-son of Leicester, he necessarily occupied a 
conspicuous position; his personal qualities, joined 
with this, soon gave him a very high and honorable 
name. 

About a month after the victory obtained by the 
English over the invincible armada, Leicester was 
seized with a fever on a journey, and, after lingering 
for a few days, died, leaving Essex, as it were, in 
his place. Elizabeth seems not to have been very in- 
consolable for her favorite's death. She directed, or 
allowed, his property to be sold at auction, to pay 
some debts which he owed her — or, as the historians 
of the day express it, which he owed the crown 
— and then seemed at once to transfer her fondness 
and affection to the young Essex, who was at that 
time twenty-one years of age. Elizabeth herself was 
now nearly sixty. Cecil was growing old also, and 
was somewhat infirm, though he had a son who 
was rapidly coming forward in rank and influence at 
court. This son's name was Robert. The young 
Earl of Essex's name was Robert too. The elder 
Cecil and Leicester had been, all their lives, watchful 
and jealous of each other, and in some sense rivals. 
Robert Cecil and Robert Devereux — for that was, in 
full, the Earl of Essex's family name — being young 
and ardent, inherited the animosity of their parents, 



1588] THE EARL OF ESSEX 187 

and were less cautious and wary in expressing it. 
They soon became open foes. 

Robert Devereux, or Essex, as lie is commonly 
called in history, was handsome and accomplished, 
ardent, impulsive, and generous. The war with 
Spain, notwithstanding the destruction of the armada, 
continued, and Essex entered into it with all zeal. 
The queen, who with all her ambition, and her proud 
and domineering spirit, felt, like any other woman, 
the necessity of having something to love, soon be- 
gan to take a strong interest in his person and 
fortunes, and seemed to love him as a mother loves 
a son; and he, in his turn, soon learned to act to- 
ward her as a son, full of youthful courage and ardor, 
often acts toward a mother over whose heart he feels 
that he has a strong control. He would go away, 
without leave, to mix in affrays with the Spanish ships 
in the English Channel and in the Bay of Biscay, and 
then come back and make his peace with the queen 
by very humble petitions for pardon, and promises 
of future obedience. When he went, with her leave, 
on these expeditions, she would charge his superior 
officers to keep him out of danger; while he, with 
an impetuosity which strongly marked his character, 
would evade and escape from all these injunctions, 
and press forward into every possible exposure, always 
eager to have battle given, and to get, himself, into 
the hottest part of it, when it was begun. At one 



i88 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1598 

time, off Cadiz, the officers of the English ships hes- 
itated some time whether to venture an attack upon 
some ships in the harbor — Essex burning with im- 
patience all the time — and when it was at length 
decided to make the attack, he was so excited with 
enthusiasm and pleasure that he threw his cap up 
into the air, and overboard, perfectly wild with de- 
light, hke a school-boy in anticipation of a holiday. 

Ten years passed away, and Essex rose higher 
and higher in estimation and honor. He was some- 
times in the queen's palaces at home, and sometimes 
away on the Spanish seas, where he acquired great 
fame. He was proud and imperious at court, relying 
on his influence with the queen, who treated him as 
a fond mother treats a spoiled child. She was often 
vexed with his conduct, but she could not help lov- 
ing him. One day, as he was coming into the 
queen's presence-chamber, he saw one of the cour- 
tiers there who had a golden ornament upon his 
arm which the queen had given him the day be- 
fore. He asked what it was: they told him it was a 
"favor" from the queen. **Ah," said he, *M see how it 
is going to be; every fool must have his favor." The 
courtier resented this mode of speaking of his dis- 
tinction, and challenged Essex to a duel. The com- 
batants met in the Park, and Essex was disarmed and 
wounded. The queen heard of the affair, and, after 
inquiring very curiously about all the particulars, she 



\ 



1598] THE EARL OF ESSEX 189 

said that she was glad of it; for, unless there was 
somebody to take down his pride, there would be no 
such thing as doing any thing with him. 

Elizabeth's feelings toward Essex fluctuated in 
strange alternations of fondness and displeasure. At 
one time, when affection was in the ascendency, she \ 
gave him a ring, as a talisman of her protection. 
She promised him that if he ever should become in- 
volved in troubles or difficulties of any kind, and 
especially if he should lose her favor, either by his 
own misconduct or by the false accusations of his en- 
emies, if he would send her that ring, it should 
serve to recall her former kind regard, and incline 
her to pardon and save him. Essex took the ring, 
and preserved it with the utmost care. 

Friendship between persons of such impetuous and 
excitable temperaments as Elizabeth and Essex both 
possessed, though usually very ardent for a time, is 
very precarious and uncertain in duration. After va- 
rious petulant and brief disputes, which were easily 
reconciled, there came at length a serious quarrel. 
There was, at that time, great difficulty in Ireland; a 
rebellion had broken out, in fact, which was fomented 
and encouraged by Spanish influence. Essex was one 
day urging very strongly the appointment of one of 
his friends to take the command there, while the 
queen was disposed to appoint another person. Essex 
urged his views and wishes with much importunity, 



I90 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1598 

and when he found that the queen was determined not 
to yield, he turned his back upon her in a contemptu- 
ous and angry manner. The queen lost patience in her 
turn, and, advancing rapidly to him, her eyes spark- 
ling with extreme resentment and displeasure, she gave 
him a severe box on the ear, telling him at the same 
time, to **go and be hanged." Essex was exceedingly 
enraged; he clasped the handle of his sword, but was 
immediately seized by the other courtiers present. 
They, however, soon released their hold upon him, and 
he walked off out of the apartment, saying that he 
could not and would not bear such an insult as that.. 
He would not have endured it, he said, from King 
Henry the Eighth himself. The name of King Henry 
the Eighth, in those days, was the symbol and per- 
sonification of the highest possible human grandeur. 

The friends of Essex among the courtiers endeav- 
ored to soothe and calm him, and to persuade him to 
apologize to the queen, and seek a reconciliation. 
They told him that, whether right or wrong, he ought 
to yield; for in contests with the law or with a prince, 
a man, they said, ought, if wrong, to submit himself 
to justice; if right, to necessity; in either case, it was 
his duty to submit. 

This was very good philosophy; but Essex was not 
in a state of mind to listen to philosophy. He wrote 
a reply to the friend who had counseled him as 
above, that '' the queen had the temper of a flint; 



1599] THE EARL OF ESSEX 191 

that she had treated him with such extreme injustice 
and cruelty so many times that his patience was ex- 
hausted, and he would bear it no longer. He knew 
well enough what duties he owed the queen as 
an earl and grand marshal of England, but he did not 
understand being cuffed and beaten like a menial serv- 
ant; and that his body suffered in every part from 
the blow he had received." 

His resentment, however, got soothed and softened 
in time, and he was again admitted to favor, though 
the consequences of such quarrels are seldom fully 
repaired. The reconciliation was, however, in this 
case, apparently complete, and in the following year 
Essex was himself appointed the Governor, or, as styled 
in those days, the Lord Deputy of Ireland. 

He went to his province, and took command of 
the forces which had been collected there, and en- 
gaged zealously in the work of suppressing the re- 
bellion. For some reason or other, however, he made 
very little progress. The name of the leader of 
the rebels was the Earl of Tyrone.* Tyrone wanted 
a parley, but did not dare to trust himself in Es- 
sex's power. It was at last, however, agreed that 
the two leaders should come down to a river, one of 
them upon each side, and talk across it, neither gen- 
eral to have any troops or attendants with him. 
This plan was carried into effect. Essex, station- 

* Spelled in the old histories Tir-Oen. 



192 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1599 

ing a troop near him, on a hill, rode down to the 
water on one side, while Tyrone came into the 
river as far as his horse could wade on the other, 
and then the two earls attempted to negotiate terms 
of peace by shouting across the current of the stream. 

Nothing effectual was accomplished by this and 
some other similar parleys, and in the mean time the 
weeks were passing away, and little was done to- 
ward suppressing the rebellion. The queen was dis- 
satisfied. She sent Essex letters of complaint and 
censure. These letters awakened the lord deputy's 
resentment. The breach was thus rapidly widening, 
when Essex all at once conceived the idea of going 
himself to England, without permission, and without 
giving any notice of his intention, to endeavor, by 
a personal interview, to reinstate himself in the favor 
of the queen. 

This was a very bold step. It was entirely con- 
trary to military etiquette for an officer to leave his 
command and go home to his sovereign without or- 
ders and without permission. The plan, however, 
might have succeeded. Leicester did once succeed in 
such a measure; but in this case, unfortunately, it 
failed. Essex traveled with the utmost dispatch, 
crossed the Channel, made the best of his way to 
the palace where the queen was then residing, and 
pressed through the opposition of all the attendants 
into the queen's private apartment, in his traveling 



1599] THE EARL OF ESSEX 193 

dress, soiled and way-worn. The queen was at her 
toilet, with her hair down over her eyes. Essex fell 
on his knees before her, kissed her hand, and made 
great professions of gratitude and love, and of an ex- 
treme desire to deserve and enjoy her favor. The 
queen was astonished at his appearance, but Essex 
thought that she received him kindly. He went 
away after a short interview, greatly pleased with the 
prospect of a favorable issue to the desperate step 
he had taken. His joy, however, was soon dis- 
pelled. In the course of the day he was arrested 
by order of the queen, and sent to his house under 
the custody of an officer. He had presumed too far. 
Essex was kept thus secluded and confined for 
some time. His house was on the bank of the river. 
None of his friends, not even his countess, were al- 
lowed access to him. His impetuous spirit wore 
itself out in chafing against the restraints and means 
of coercion which were pressing upon him; but he 
would not submit. The mind of the queen, too, was 
deeply agitated all the time by that most tempestuous 
of all mental conflicts, a struggle between resentment 
and love. Her affection for her proud-spirited favor- 
ite seemed as strong as ever, but she was determined 
to make him yield in the contest she had commenced 
with him. How often cases precisely similar occur 
in less conspicuous scenes of action, where they who 
love each other with a sincere and uncontrollable af- 

M. ot H.— 16— 13 



194 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1599 

fection take their stand in attitudes of hostility, each 
determined that the obstinacy of the other shall give 
way, and each heart persisting in its own determina- 
tion, resentment and love struggling all the time in a 
dreadful contest, which keeps the soul in a perpetual 
commotion, and allows of no peace till either the 
obstinacy yields or the love is extinguished and gone. 

It was indirectly made known to Essex that if he 
would confess his fault, ask the queen's forgiveness, 
and petition for a release from confinement, in order 
that he might return to his duties in Ireland, the dif- 
ficulty could be settled. But no, he would make no 
concessions. The queen, in retaliation, increased the 
pressure upon him. The more strongly he felt the 
pressure, the more his proud and resentful spirit was 
aroused. He walked his room, his soul boiling with 
anger and chagrin, while the queen, equally distressed 
and harassed by the conflict in her own soul, still 
persevered, hoping every day that the unbending 
spirit with which she was contending would yield at 
last. 

At length the tidings came to her that Essex, worn 
out with agitation and suffering, was seriously sick. 
The historians doubt whether his sickness was real 
or feigned; but there is not much difficulty in under- 
standing, from the circumstances of the case, what 
its real nature was. Such mental conflicts as those 
which be endured suspend the powers of digestion 



1599] THE EARL OF ESSEX 195 

and accelerate the pulsations of the heart, which beats 
in the bosom with a preternatural frequency and 
force, like a bird fluttering to get free from a snare. 
The result is a sort of fever burning slowly in the 
veins, and an emaciation which wastes the strength 
away, and, in impetuous and uncontrollable spirits, 
like that of Essex, sometimes exhausts the powers of 
life altogether. The sickness, therefore, though of 
mental origin, becomes bodily and real; but then the 
sufferer is often ready, in such cases, to add a little 
to it by feigning. An\ instinct teaches him that 
nothing is so likely to move the heart whose cruelty 
causes him to suffer, as a knowledge of the extrefne 
to which it has reduced him. Essex was doubtless 
willing that Elizabeth should know that he was sick. 
Her knowing it had, in some measure, the usual effect. 
It reawakened and strengthened the love she had felt 
for him, but did not give it absolutely the victory. 
She sent eight physicians to him, to examine and 
consult upon his case. She caused some broth to be 
made for him, and gave it to one of these physicians 
to carry to him, directing the messenger, in a falter- 
ing voice, to say to Essex that if it were proper to 
do so she would have come to see him herself. She 
then turned away to hide her tears. Strange incon- 
sistency of the human heart — resentment and anger 
holding their ground in the soul against the object of 
such deep and unconquerable love. It would be in- 



196 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1599 

credible, were it not that probably every single one 
of all the thousands who may read this story has ex- 
perienced the same. 

Nothing has so great an effect in awakening in 
the heart a strong sentiment of kindness as the per- 
formance of a kind act. Feeling originates and con- 
trols action, it is true, but then, on the other hand, 
action has a prodigious power in modifying feeling. 
Elizabeth's acts of kindness to Essex in his sickness 
produced a renewal of her tenderness for him so 
strong that her obstinacy and anger gave way before 
it, and she soon began to desire some mode of re- 
leasing him from his confinement, and restoring him 
to favor. Essex was softened too. In a word, there 
was finally a reconciliation, though it was accom- 
plished by slow degrees, and by means of a sort of 
series of capitulations. There was an investigation of 
his case before the privy council, which resulted in a 
condemnation of his conduct, and a recommendation 
to the mercy of the queen ; and then followed some 
communications between Essex and his sovereign, in 
which he expressed sorrow for his faults, and made 
satisfactory promises for the future. 

The queen, however, had not magnanimity enough 
to let the quarrel end without taunting and irritating 
the penitent with expressions of triumph. In reply to 
his acknowledgments and professions, she told him 
that she was glad to hear of his good intentions, and 



1599] THE EARL OF ESSEX 197 

she hoped that he would show, by his future conduct, 
that he meant to fulfill them; that he had tried her 
patience for a long time, but she hoped that hence- 
forth she should have no further trouble. If it had 
been her father, she added, instead of herself, that he 
had had to deal with, he would not have been par- 
doned at all. It could not be a very cordial recon- 
ciliation which was consummated by such words as 
these. But it was very Hke Elizabeth to utter them. 
They who are governed by their temper are governed 
by it even in their love. 

Essex was not restored to office. In fact, he did 
not wish to be restored. He said that he was re- 
solved henceforth to lead a private life. But even in 
respect to this plan he was at the mercy of the queen, 
for his private income was in a great measure derived 
from a monopoly, as it is called, in a certain kind of 
wines, which had been granted to him some time 
before. It was a very customary mode, in those days, 
of enriching favorites, to grant them monopolies of 
certain kinds of merchandise, that is, the exclusive 
right to sell them. The persons to whom this priv- 
ilege was granted would underlet their right to mer- 
chants in various parts of the kingdom, on condition 
of receiving a certain share of the profits. Essex had 
thus derived a great revenue from his monopoly of 
wines. The grant, however, was expiring, and he 
petitioned the queen that it might be renewed. 



198 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1599 

The interest which Essex felt in the renewal of 

this grant was one of the strongest inducements to 

lead him to submit to the humiliations which he had 

endured, and to make concessions to the queen. But 
f 
' he was disappointed in his hopes. The queen, elated 

a little with the triumph already attained, and, per- 
haps, desirous of the pleasure of humbling Essex still 
more, refused at present to renew his monopoly, say- 
ing that she thought it would do him good to be re- 
stricted a little, for a time, in his means. "Unman- 
ageable beasts," she said, "had to be tamed by being 
stinted in their provender." 

Essex was sharply stung by such a refusal, accom^ 
panied, too, by such an insult. He was full of 
indignation and anger. At first he gave free expres- 
sion to his feelings of vexation in conversation with 
those around him. The queen, he said, had got to 
be a perverse and obstinate old woman, as crooked 
in mind as she was in body. He had plenty of 
enemies to listen to these speeches, and to report 
them in such a way as that they should reach the 
queen. A new breach was consequently opened, 
which seemed now wider than ever, and irreparable. 

/ At least it seemed so to Essex; and, abandoning 

If 

I all plans for again enjoying the favor of Elizabeth, he 

I began to consider what he could do to undermine 

her power and rise upon the ruins of it. The idea 

was insanity, but passion always makes men insane. 



i6oo] THE EARL OF ESSEX 199 

James, King of Scotland, the son and successor of 
Mary, was the rightful heir to the English throne after 
Elizabeth's death. In order to make his right of suc- 
cession more secure, he had wished to have Ehzabeth 
acknowledge it; but she, always dreading terribly the 
thoughts of death, could never bear to think of a suc- 
cessor, and seemed to hate every one who entertained 
any expectation of following her. Essex suppressed 
all outward expressions of violence and anger; be- 
came thoughtful, moody, and sullen; held secret con- 
sultations with desperate intriguers, and finally formed 
a scheme to organize a rebellion, to bring King 
James's troops to England to support it, to take pos- 
session of the Tower and of the strong-holds about 
London, to seize the palace of the queen, overturn 
her government, and compel her both to acknowledge 
James's right to the succession and to restore Essex 
himself to power. 

The personal character of Essex had given him a 
very wide-spread popularity and influence, and he had, 
consequently, very extensive materials at his com- 
mand for organizing a powerful conspiracy. The plot 
was gradually matured, extending itself, in the course 
of the few following months, not only throughout Eng- 
land, but also into France and Spain. The time for 
the final explosion was drawing near, when, as usual 
in such cases, intelligence of the existence of this 
treason, in the form of vague rumors, reached the 



200 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1600 

queen. One day, when the leading conspirators were 
assembled at Essex's palace, a messenger came to 
summon the earl to appear before the council. They 
received, also, private intelligence that their plots 
were probably discovered. While they were consid- 
ering what to do in this emergency — all in a state 
of great perplexity and fear — a person came, pretend- 
ing to be a deputy sent from some of the principal 
citizens of London, to say to Essex that they were 
ready to espouse his cause. Essex immediately be- 
came urgent to commence the insurrection at once. 
Some of his friends, on the other hand, were in favor 
of abandoning the enterprise, and flying from the 
country; but Essex said he had rather be shot at the 
head of his bands, than to wander all his days beyond 
the seas, a fugitive and vagabond. 

The conspirators acceded to their leader's councils. 
They sent word, accordingly, into the city, and began 
to make their arrangements to rise in arms the next 
morning. The night was spent in anxious prepara- 
tions. Early in the morning a deputation of some of 
the highest officers of the government, with a train of 
attendants, came to Essex's palace, and demanded en- 
trance in the name of the queen. The gates of the 
palace were shut and guarded. At last, after some 
hesitation and delay, the conspirators opened a wicket, 
that is, a small gate within the large one, which would 
admit one person at a time. They allowed the ofifi- 



i6oo] THE EARL OF ESSEX 201 

cers themselves to enter, but shut the gate immediately 
so as to exclude the attendants. The officers found 
themselves in a large court-yard filled with armed 
men, Essex standing calmly at the head of them. 
They demanded what was the meaning of such an 
unusual assemblage. Essex replied that it was to de- 
fend his life from conspiracies formed against it by his 
enemies. The officers denied this danger, and began 
to expostulate with Essex in angry terms, and the at- 
tendants on his side to reply with vociferations and 
threats, when Essex, to end the altercation, took the 
officers into the palace. He conducted them to a 
room and shut them up, to keep them as hostages. 

It was now near ten o'clock, and, leaving his pris- 
oners in their apartment, under a proper guard, Essex 
sallied forth, with the more resolute and desperate of 
his followers, and proceeded into the city, to bring out 
into action the forces which he supposed were ready 
to co-operate with him there. He rode on through 
the streets, calling to arms, and shouting, "For the 
queen! For the queen!" His design was to convey 
the .impression that the movement which he was mak- 
ing was not against the queen herself, but against his 
own enemies in her councils, and that she was her- 
self on his side. The people of London, however, 
could not be so easily deceived. The mayor had re- 
ceived warning before, from the council, to be ready 
to suppress the movement, if one should be made. 



202 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1600 

As soon, therefore, as Essex and his company were 
fairly in the city, the gates were shut and barred to 
prevent his return. One of the queen's principal min- 
isters of state too, at the head of a small troop of 
horsemen, came in and rode through the streets, 
proclaiming Essex a traitor, and calling upon all the 
citizens to aid in arresting him. One of Essex's fol- 
lowers fired a pistol at this officer to stop his procla- 
mation, but the people generally seemed disposed to 
listen to him, and to comply with his demand. After 
riding, therefore, through some of the principal streets, 
he returned to the queen, and reported to her that all 
was well in the city; there was no danger that Essex 
would succeed in raising a rebelHon there. 

In the mean time, the farther Essex proceeded, the 
more he found himself environed with difficulties afid 
dangers. The people began to assemble here and there 
with evident intent to impede his movements. They 
blocked up the streets with carts and coaches to pre- 
vent his escape. His followers, one after another, 
finding all hope of success gone, abandoned their de- 
spairing leader and fled. Essex himself, with the few 
who still adhered to him, wandered about till two 
o'clock, finding the way of retreat everywhere hemmed 
up against him. At length he fled to the river- 
side, took a boat, with the few who still remained 
with him, and ordered the watermen to row as rapidly 
as possible up the river. They landed at Westmin- 



i6oo] THE EARL OF ESSEX 203 

ster, retreated to Essex's house, fled into it with the 
utmost precipitation, and barricaded the doors. Essex 
himself was excited in the highest degree, fully deter- 
mined to die there rather than surrender himself a 
prisoner. The terrible desperation to which men are 
reduced in emergencies like these, is shown by the fact 
that one of his followers did actually station himself 
at a window, bare-headed, inviting a shot from the 
pistols of the pursuers, who had by this time environed 
the house, and were preparing to force their way in. 
His plan succeeded. He was shot, and died that night. 
Essex himself was not quite so desperate as this. 
He soon saw, however, that he must sooner or later 
yield. He could not stand a siege in his own private 
dwelling against the whole force of the EngHsh realm. 
/He surrendered about six in the evening, and was sent 
/to the Tower. He was soon afterward brought to 
' trial. The facts, with all the arrangements and details 
of the conspiracy, were fully proved, and he was con- 
1 demned to die. 

As the unhappy prisoner lay in his gloomy dun- 
^geon in the Tower, the insane excitement under 
which he had for so many months been acting, 
slowly ebbed away. He awoke from it gradually, as 
one recovers his senses after a dreadful dream. He saw 
how utterly irretrievable was the mischief which had 
been done. Remorse for his guilt in having attempted 
to destroy the peace of the kingdom to gratify his 



204 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1600 

own personal feelings of revenge; recollections of the 
favors which Elizabeth had shown him, and of the 
love which she had felt for him, obviously so deep 
and sincere; the consciousness that his life was fairly 
forfeited, and that he must die, — to lie in his cell and 
think of these things, overwhelmed him with anguish 
and despair. The brilliant prospects which were so 
recently before him were all forever gone, leaving noth- 
ing in their place but the grim phantom of an execu- 
tioner, standing with an ax by the side of a dreadful 
platform, with a block upon it, half revealed and half 
hidden by the black cloth which covered it like a 
pall. 

Elizabeth, in her palace, was in a state ol mind 
scarcely less distressing than that of the wretched 
prisoner in his cell. The old conflict was renewed — 
' pride and resentment on the one side, and love which 
would not be extinguished on the other. If Essex 
would sue for pardon, she would remit his sentence 
and allow him to live. Why would he not do it ? If 
he would send her the ring, which she had given him 
for exactly such an emergency, he might be saved. 
Why did he not send it ? The courtiers and statesmen 
about her urged her to sign the warrant; the peace 
of the country demanded the execution of the laws in 
a case of such unquestionable guilt. They told her, too, 
that Essex wished to die, that he knew that he was 
hopelessly and irretrievably ruined, and that life, if 



../ 



i6oo] THE EARL OF ESSEX 205 

granted to him, was a boon which would compromise 
her own safety and confer no benefit on him. Still 
Elizabeth waited and waited in an agony of suspense, 
in hopes that the ring would come; the sending of it 
would be so far an act of submission on his part as 
would put it in her power to do the rest. Her love 
could bend her pride, indomitable as it usually was, 
almost to the whole concession, but it would not give 
up quite all. It demanded some sacrifice on his part,- 
which sacrifice the sending of the ring would have 
rendered. The ring did not come, nor any petition 
for mercy, and at length the fatal warrant was signed. 

What the courtiers said about Essex's desire to die 
was doubtless true. Like every other person involved 
in irretrievable suffering and sorrows, he wanted to 
live, and he wanted to die. The two contradictory 
desires shared dominion in his heart, sometimes strug- 
gling together in a tumultuous conflict, and sometimes 
reigning in alternation, in calms more terrible, in fact, 
than the tempests which preceded and followed them. 

At the appointed time the unhappy man was led 
out to the court-yard in the Tower where the last 
scene was to be enacted. The lieutenant of the Tower 
presided, dressed in a black velvet gown, over a suit 
of black satin. The ''scaffold" was a platform about 
twelve feet square and four feet high, with a railing 
around it, and steps by which to ascend. The block 
was in the center of it, covered, as well as the plat- 



2o6 



QUEEN ELIZABETH 



[1600 



form itself, with black cloth. There were seats erected 
near for those who were appointed to be present at 
the execution. Essex ascended the platform with a 
firm step, and, surveying the solemn scene around 
him with calmness and composure, he began to speak. 

He asked the forgiveness of God, of the spectators 
present, and of the queen, for the crimes for which 
he was about to suffer. He acknowledged his guilt, 
and the justice of his condemnation. His mind seemed 
deeply imbued with a sense of his accountability to 
God, and he expressed a strong desire to be forgiven, - 
for Christ's sake, for all the sins which he had com- 
mitted, which had been, he said, most numerous and 
aggravated from his earliest years. He asked the 
spectators present to join him in his devotions, and 
he then proceeded to offer a short prayer, in which 
he implored pardon for his sins, and a long life 
and happy reign for the queen. The prayer ended, 
all was ready. The executioner, according to the 
strange custom on such occasions, then asked his par- 
don for the violence which he was about to commit, 
which Essex readily granted. Essex laid his head 
upon the block, and it required three blows to com- 
plete its severance from the body. When the deed 
was done,^the executioner took up the bleeding head, 
saying solemnly, as he held it, *'God save the queen." 

There were but few spectators present at this 
dreadful scene, and they were chiefly persons required 



i6oo] THE EARL OF ESSEX 207 

to attend in the discharge of their official duties. 
There was, however, one exception; it was that of a 
courtier of high rank, who had long been Essex's in- 
veterate enemy, and who could not deny himself the 
savage pleasure of witnessing his rival's destruction. 
But even the stern and iron-hearted officers of the 
Tower were shocked at his appearing at the scaffold. 
They urged him to go away, and not distress the 
dying man by his presence at such an hour. The 
courtier yielded so far as to withdraw from the scaf- 
fold; but he could not go far away. He found a 
place where he could stand unobserved to witness 
the scene, at the window of a turret which over- 
looked the court-yard. 




CHAPTER XII. 

The Conclusion. 

Question of Essex's guilt.— General opinion of mankind.— Elizabeth's dis- 
tress. — Fall of Essex's party. — Wounds of the heart. — Elizabeth's efforti 
to recover her spirits. — Embassage from France. — A conversation. — 
Thoughts of Essex.— Harrington. — The Countess of Nottingham. — The 
Countess of Nottingham's confession. — The queen's indignation. — ^^Bitter 
reminiscences. — The queen removes to Richmond. — Elizabeth grows 
worse. — The private chapel and the closets. — The wedding ring. — The 
queen's friends abandon her. — The queen's voice fails. — She calls her 
council together. — The chaplains. — The prayers. — The queen's death. — 
King James proclaimed. — Burial of the queen. — Westminster Abbey.— 
Its history.— The Poets' Corner.— Henry the Seventh's Chapel.— Eliza- 
beth's monument. — James. — Mary's monument. — Feelings of visitors. 
— Summary of Elizabeth's character. 

THERE can be no doubt that Essex was really guilty 
of the treason for which he was condemned, 
but mankind have generally been incHned to 
consider Elizabeth rather than him as the one really 
accountable, both for the crime and its consequences. 
To elate and intoxicate, in the first place, an ardent 
and ambitious boy, by flattery and favors, and then, 
in the end, on the occurrence of real or fancied causes 
of displeasure, to tease and torment so sensitive and 
(ao8) 



i6oi] THE CONCLUSION 209 

impetuous a spirit to absolute madness and phrensy, 
was to take the responsibility, in a great measure, for 
all the effects which might follow. At least so it 
has generally been regarded. By almost all the readers 
of the story, Essex is pitied and mourned — it is 
Ehzabeth that is condemned. It is a melancholy story; 
but scenes exactly parallel to this case are continually 
occurring in private life all around us, where sorrows 
and sufferings which are, so far as the heart is con- 
cerned, precisely the same result from the combined 
action, or rather, perhaps, the alternating and con- 
tending action, of fondness, passion, and obstinacy. 
The results are always, in their own nature, the 
same, though not often on so great a scale as to 
make the wrong which follows , treason against a 
realm, and the consequences a beheading in the 
Tower. 

There must have been some vague consciousness 
of this her share in the guilt of the transaction in 
Elizabeth's mind, even while the trial of Essex was 
going on. We know that she was harassed by the 
most tormenting suspense and perplexity while the 
question of the execution of his sentence was pend- 
ing. Of course, when the plot was discovered, Es- 
sex's party and all his friends fell immediately from 
all influence and consideration at court. Many of 
them were arrested and imprisoned, and four were 
executed, as he had been. The party which had 

M. et H.— 1*— 14 



/ 

I' 



2IO QUEEN ELIZABETH [1601 

been opposed to him acquired at once the entire 
ascendency, and they all, judges, counselors, states- 
men, and generals, combined their influence to press 
upon the queen the necessity of his execution. She 
signed one warrant and delivered it to the officer; 
but then, as soon as the deed was done, she was 
so overwhelmed with distress and anguish that she 
sent to recall it, and had it canceled. Finally she 
signed another, and the sentence was executed. 

Time will cure, in our earlier years, most of the 
sufferings, and calm most of the agitations of the 
soul, however incurable and uncontrollable they may 
at first appear to the sufferer. But in the later peri- 
ods of life, when severe shocks strike very heavily 
upon the soul, there is found far less of buoyancy 
and recovering power to meet the blow. In such 
cases the stunned and bewildered spirit moves on, 
after receiving its wound, staggering, as it were, 
with faintness and pain, and leaving it for a long 
time uncertain whether it will ultimately rise and 
recover, or sink down and die. 

Dreadfully wounded as Elizabeth was, in all the 
inmost feelings and affections of her heart, by the 
execution of her beloved favorite, she was a woman 
of far too much spirit and energy to yield without 
a struggle. She made the greatest efforts possible 
after his death to banish the subject from her mind, 
and to recover her wonted spirits. She went on 



i6o2] THE CONCLUSION 211 

hunting excursions and parties of pleasure. She 
prosecuted with great energy her war with the 
Spaniards, and tried to interest herself in the siege 
and defense of Continental cities. She received an 
embassage from the court of France with great pomp 
and parade, and made a grand progress through a 
part of her dominions, with a long train of attend- 
ants, to the house of a nobleman, where she enter- 
tained the embassador many days in magnificent 
state, at her own expense, with plate and furniture 
brought from her own palaces for the purpose. She 
even planned an interview between herself and the 
King of France, and went to Dover to effect it. 

But all would not do. Nothing could drive the 
thoughts of Essex from her mind, or dispel the de- 
jection with which the recollection of her love for 
him, and of his unhappy fate, oppressed her spirit. A 
year or two passed away, but time brought no relief. 
Sometimes she was fretful and peevish, and some- 
times hopelessly dejected and sad. She told the 
French embassador one day that she was weary of 
her hfe, and when she attempted to speak of Essex 
as the cause of her grief, she sighed bitterly and 
burst into tears. 

When she recovered her composure, she told the 
embassador that she had always been uneasy about 
Essex while he hved, and, knowing his impetuosity 
of spirit and his ambition, she had been afraid that 



212 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1602 

he would one day attempt something which would 
compromise his life, and she had warned and en- 
treated him not to be led into any such designs, for, 
if he did so, his fate would have to be decided by 
the stern authority of law, and not by her own in- 
dulgent feelings, but that all her earnest warnings 
had been insufficient to save him. 

It was the same whenever anything occurred 
which recalled thoughts of Essex to her mind; it 
almost always brought tears to her eyes. When 
Essex was commanding in Ireland, it will be recol- 
lected that he had, on one occasion, come to a parley 
with Tyrone, the rebel leader, across the current of a 
stream. An officer in his army, named Harrington, 
had been with him on this occasion, and present, 
though at a httle distance, during the interview. 
After Essex had left Ireland, another lord-deputy had 
been appointed; but the rebellion continued to give 
the government a great deal of trouble. The Span- 
iards came over to Tyrone's assistance, and EHzabeth's 
mind was much occupied with plans for subduing 
him. One day Harrington was at court in the pres- 
ence of the queen, and she asked him if he had ever 
seen Tyrone. Harrington replied that he had. The 
queen then recollected the former interview which 
Harrington had had with him, and she said, ''Oh, 
now I recollect that you have seen him before!" 
This thought recalled Essex so forcibly to her mind. 



i6o2] THE CONCLUSION 213 

and filled her with such painful emotions, that she 
looked up to Harrington with a countenance full of 
grief; tears came to her eyes, and she beat her breast 
with every indication of extreme mental suffering. 
/ Things went on in this way until toward the close 
I of 1602, when an incident occurred which seemed to 
I strike down at once and forever what little strength 
land spirit the queen had remaining. The Countess of 
Nottingham, a celebrated lady of the court, was dan- 
gerously sick, and had sent for the queen to come 
and see her, saying that she had a communication to 
make to her majesty herself, personally, which she was 
very anxious to make to her before she died. The 
queen went accordingly to see her. 

When she arrived at the bedside the countess 
showed her a ring. Elizabeth immediately recognized 
it as the ring which she had given to Essex, and 
which she had promised to consider a special pledge 
of her protection, and which was to be sent to her 
by him, whenever he found himself in any extremity 
of danger and distress. The queen eagerly demanded 
where it came from. The countess replied that Essex 
had sent the ring to her during his imprisonment in 
the Tower, and after his condemnation, with an 
earnest request that she would deliver it to the queen 
as a token of her promise of protection, and of his 
own supplication for mercy. The countess added 
that she had intended to deliver the ring according to 



214 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1602 

Essex's request, but her husband, who was the un- 
happy prisoner's enemy, forbade her to do it; that 
ever since the execution of Essex she had been greatly 
distressed at the consequences of having withheld the 
ring; and that now, as she was about to leave the 
world herself, she felt that she could not die in peace 
without first seeing the queen, and acknowledging 
fully what she had done, and imploring her forgive- 
ness. 

The queen was thrown into a state of extreme 
indignation and displeasure by this statement. She 
reproached the dying countess in the bitterest terms, ■ 
and shook her as she lay helpless in her bed, saying, 
''God may forgive you if He pleases, but / never 
will." She then went away in a rage. 

Her exasperation, however, against the countess, 
was soon succeeded by bursts of inconsolable grief at 
the recollection of the hopeless and irretrievable loss of 
the object of her affection, whose image the ring called 
back so forcibly to her mind. Her imagination wan- 
dered in wretchedness and despair to the gloomy 
dungeon in the Tower where Essex had been con- 
fined, and painted him pining there, day after day, in 
dreadful suspense and anxiety, waiting for her to re- 
deem the solemn pledge by which she had bound her- 
self in giving him the ring. All the sorrow which she 
had felt at his untimely and cruel fate was awaken>2d 
afresh, and became more poignant than ever. She made 



i6o3] THE CONCLUSION 215 

them place cushions for her upon the floor, in the 
most inner and secluded of her apartments, and there 
she would lie all the day long, her hair disheveled, 
her dress neglected, her food refused, and her mind a 
prey to almost uninterrupted anguish and grief. 

In January, 1603, she felt that she was drawing 
toward her end, and she decided to be removed from 
Westminster to Richmond, because there was there an 
arrangement of closets communicating with her cham- 
ber, in which she could easily and conveniently attend 
divine service. She felt that she had now done with 
the world, and all the relief and comfort which she 
could find at all from the pressure of her distress was 
in that sense of protection and safety which she experi- 
enced when in the presence of God and listening to 
the exercises of devotion. 

It was a cold and stormy day in January when 
she went to Richmond; but, being restless and ill at 
ease, she would not be deterred by that circumstance 
from making the journey. She became worse after 
this removal. She made them put cushions again 
for her upon the floor, and she would lie upon them 
all the day, refusing to go to her bed. There was a 
communication from her chamber to closets connected 
with a chapel, where she had been accustomed to sit 
and hear divine service. These closets were of the 
form of small galleries, where the queen and her im- 
mediate attendants could sit. There was one open 



2i6 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1603 

and public; another — a smaller one — was private, with 
curtains which could be drawn before it, so as to screen 
those within from the notice of the congregation. The 
queen intended, first, to go into the great closet; but, 
feeling too weak for this, she changed her mind, and 
ordered the private one to be prepared. At last she 
decided not to attempt to make even this effort, but 
ordered the cushions to be put down upon the floor, 
near the entrance, in her own room, and she lay there 
while the prayers were read, hstening to the voice of 
the clergyman as it came in to her through the open 
door. 

One day she asked them to take off the wedding 
ring with which she had commemorated her espousal 
to her kingdom and her people on the day of her 
coronation. The flesh had swollen around it so that 
it could not be removed. The attendants procured 
an instrument and cut it in two, and so relieved the 
finger from the pressure. The work was done in 
silence and solemnity, the queen herself, as well as 
the attendants, regarding it as a symbol that the 
union, of which the ring had been the pledge, was 
about to be sundered forever. 

She sank rapidly day by day, and, as it became 
more and more probable that she would soon cease 
to hve, the nobles and statesmen who had been at- 
tendants at her court for so many years withdrew 
one after another from the palace, and left London 



i6o3] THE CONCLUSION 217 

secretly, but with eager dispatch, to make their way 
to Scotland, in order to be the first to hail King 
James, the moment they should learn that Ehzabeth 
had ceased to breathe. 

Her being abandoned thus by these heartless 
friends did not escape the notice of the dying queen. 
Though her strength of body was almost gone, the 
soul was as active and busy as ever within its failing 
tenement. She watched every thing — noticed every 
thing, growing more and more jealous and irritable 
just in proportion as her situation became helpless 
and forlorn. Every thing seemed to conspire to deepen 
the despondency and gloom which darkened her dy- 
ing hours. 

Her strength rapidly declined. Her voice grew 
fainter and fainter, until, on the 23d of March, she 
could no longer speak. In the afternoon of that day 
she aroused herself a little, and contrived to make 
signs to have her council called to her bedside. Those 
who had not gone to Scotland came. They asked 
her whom she wished to have succeed her on the 
throne. She could not answer, but when they named 
King James of Scotland, she made a sign of assent. 
After a time the counselors went away. 

At six o'clock in the evening she made signs for 
the archbishop and her chaplains to come to her. 
They were sent for and came. When they came in, 
they approached her bedside and kneeled. The pa- 



21 8 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1603 

tient was lying upon her back speechless, but her 
eyes, still moving watchfully and observing every- 
thing, showed that the faculties of the soul were un- 
impaired. One of the clergymen asked her questions 
respecting her faith. Of course, she could not answer 
in words. She made signs, however, with her eyes 
and her hands, which seemed to prove that she had 
full possession of all her faculties. The by standers 
looked on with breathless attention. The aged bishop, 
who had asked the questions, then began to pray 
for her. He continued his prayer a long time, and 
then pronouncing a benediction upon her, he was 
about to rise, but she made a sign. The bishop did 
not understand what she meant, but a lady present 
said that she wished the bishop to continue his devo- 
tions. The bishop, though weary with kneeling, con- 
tinued his prayer half an hour longer. He then closed 
again, but she repeated the sign. The bishop, find- 
ing thus that his ministrations gave her so much 
comfort, renewed them with greater fervency than 
before, and continued his supplications for a long 
time — so long, that those who had been present at 
the commencement of the service went away softly, 
one after another, so that when at last the bishop 
retired, the queen was left with her nurses and her 
women alone. These attendants remained at their 
dying sovereign's bedside for a few hours longer, 
watching the failing pulse, the quickened breathing, 



i6o3] THE CONCLUSION 219 

and all the other indications of approaching dissolu- 
tion. As hour after hour thus passed on, they wished 
that their weary task was done, and that both their 
patient and themselves were at rest. This lasted till 
midnight, and then the intelligence was communi- 
cated about the palace that Elizabeth was no more. 

In the mean time all the roads to Scotland were 
covered, as it were, with eager aspirants for the fa- 
vor of the distinguished personage there, who, from 
the instant Elizabeth ceased to breathe, became King 
of England. They flocked into Scotland by sea and 
by land, urging their way as rapidly as possible, each 
eager to be foremost in paying his. homage to the 
rising sun. The council assembled and proclaimed 
King James. Elizabeth lay neglected and forgotten. 
The interest she had inspired was awakened only by 
her power, and that being gone, nobody mourned for 
her, or lamented her death. The attention of the 
kingdom was soon universally absorbed in the plans 
for receiving and proclaiming the new monarch from 
the North, and in anticipations of the splendid pag- 
eantry which was to signalize his taking his seat 
upon the English throne. 

In due time the body of the deceased queen was de- 
posited with those of her progenitors, in the ancient place 
of sepulture of the English kings, Westminster Abbey. 
Westminster Abbey, in the sense in which that term 
is used in history, is not to be conceived of as a build- 



220 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1603 

ing, nor even as a group of buildings, but rather as a 
long succession of buildings, like a dynasty', following 
each other in a line, the various structures having been 
renewed and rebuilt constantly, as parts or wholes de- 
cayed, from century to century, for twelve or fifteen 
hundred years. The spot received its consecration at a 
very early day. It was then an island formed by the 
waters of a little tributary to the Thames, which has 
long since entirely disappeared. Written records of 
its sacredness, and of the sacred structures which 
have occupied it, go back more than a thousand years, 
and beyond that time tradition mounts still further, 
carrying the consecration of the spot almost to the 
Christian era, by telling us that the Apostle Peter him 
self, in his missionary wanderings, had a chapel or an 
oratory there. 

The spot has been, in all ages, the burial-place 
of the English kings, whose monuments and effigies 
adorn its walls and aisles in endless variety. A vast 
number, too, of the statesmen, generals, and naval 
heroes of the British empire have been admitted to 
the honor of having their remains deposited under 
its marble floor. Even literary genius has a little 
corner assigned it — the mighty aristocracy whose 
mortal remains it is the main function of the build- 
ing to protect having so far condescended toward 
intellectual greatness as to allow to Milton, Addison, 
and Shakspeare modest monuments behind a door. 



i6o3] THE CONCLUSION 221 

The place is called the Poet's Corner; and so famed 
and celebrated is this vast edifice every where, that 
the phrase by which even this obscure and insignifi- 
cant portion of it is known is familiar to every ear 
and every tongue throughout the English world. 

The body of Elizabeth was interred in a part of 
the edifice called Henry the Seventh's Chapel. The 
word chapel, in the European sense, denotes ordina- 
rily a subordinate edifice connected with the main 
body of a church, and opening into it. Most fre- 
quently, in fact, a chapel is a mere recess or alcove, 
separated from the area of the church by a small 
screen or gilded iron railing. In the Catholic 
churches these chapels are ornamented with sculp- 
tures and paintings, with altars and crucifixes, and 
other such furniture. Sometimes they are built ex- 
pressly as monumental structures, in which case 
they are often of considerable size, and are orna- 
mented with great magnificence and splendor. This 
was the case with Henry the Seventh's Chapel. The 
whole building is, in fact, his tomb. Vast sums 
were expended in the construction of it, the work 
of which extended through two reigns. It is now 
one of the most attractive portions of the great 
pile which it adorns. Elizabeth's body was depos- 
ited here, and here her monument was erected. 

It will be recollected that James, who now suc- 
ceeded Elizabeth, was the son of Mary Queen of 



222 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1603 

Scots. Soon after his accession to the throne, he 
removed the remains of his mother from their 
place of sepulture near the scene of her execution, 
and interred them in the south aisle of Henry the 
Seventh's Chapel, while the body of Elizabeth oc- 
cupied the northern one.* He placed, also, over 
Mary's remains, a tomb very similar in its plan and de- 
sign to that by which the memory of Elizabeth was 
honored; and there the rival queens have since re- 
posed in silence and peace under the same paved 
floor. And though the monuments do not materi- 
ally differ in their architectural forms, it is found that 
the visitors who go continually to the spot gaze 
with a brief though Hvely interest at the one, 
while they linger long and mournfully over the other. 

The character of Elizabeth has not generally awak- 
ened among mankind much commendation or sympa- 
thy. They who censure or condemn her should, how- 
ever, reflect how very conspicuous was the stage on 
which she acted, and how minutely all her faults have 
been paraded to the world. That she deserved the re- 
proaches which have been so freely cast upon her 
memory cannot be denied. It will moderate, however, 



*See our history of Mary Queen of Scots, near the close. Aisles 
in English Cathedral churches are colonnades, or spaces between col- 
umns on an open floor, and not passages between pews, as with us. 
In monumental churches like Westminster Abbey there are no pews. 



i6o3] THE CONCLUSION 223 

any tendency to censoriousness in our mode of utter- 
ing them, if we consider to how little advantage we 
should ourselves appear, if all the words of fretfulness 
and irritability which we have ever spoken, all our 
insincerity and double-dealing, our selfishness, our 
pride, our petty resentments, our caprice, and our 
countless follies, were exposed as fully to the public 
gaze as were those of this renowned and glorious, but 
unhappy queen. 

The End. 








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-*3 



.^-^^ 



.\^"" '^'^.> 






